


The Two of Cups

by RangoAteMyBaby (FormallyKnownAsFreya)



Series: The Paladins of Hogwarts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fist Fights, Forty Years after the Second Wizarding War, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hogwarts is a College now, I don't play that game, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pidge is just as old as everyone else, Pining, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, So don't come at me with that underage Pidge Bullshit, Will get Explicit Later? Maybe?, Wizard Duels, Wizard sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 151,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormallyKnownAsFreya/pseuds/RangoAteMyBaby
Summary: It's been forty years since the Second Wizarding War. Lots of things are different now but some things never change.The new school year is starting and for Lance it's a chance to learn new skills, make new friends, and achieve his lifelong dreams. All Keith wants to do is get through his classes without anyone getting in his way. These two students clash due to some misunderstandings and opposing opinions. And they both have to wonder if its possible for two people, so utterly different, to be friends? What about something more?





	1. The Fool (Upright)

**Author's Note:**

> CHECK TAGS AND READ RESPONSIBLY!

_“[It] is a card of potential, new beginnings and innocence. [It] shows the highest potential for your life, reaching a state of renewal and new beginnings, where each day is an adventure and each moment is lived to the fullest.” --- Biddy Tarot_

 

“I can’t believe you’re off already,” his mom sighs wistfully as she washes a plate in the kitchen sink. “Where did all the time go, hijo?”

Lance chuckles as he pulls books off the shelf in the living room, eying them and stacking the ones he wants to take with him on a coffee table. He finds a comic book stuck between the novels. Gives the pages a little flip through with a smile.

“Dunno, mom,” Lance answers as he puts it back. He pulls out another and flips the worn pages.

He’s loved this one since childhood, a historical comic series based on the great battle for Hogwarts. It’s got everyone he’s ever looked up to in it. But the most important, of course, is the legendary trio! The three of them stand on the cover in epic fashion with their wands drawn. Bright writing on the bottom boldly claims ‘BASED ON THE TRUEST VERSION OF EVENTS’. Hard to believe how long it’s been since then.

So much has changed in the Wizarding world in forty years.

The battle came and went before Lance was born so all he knows of the events are from what he’s read and what older witches and wizards have told him. His parents even have a few stories of their own but none of them pleasant so he’s learned not to ask. It was a dark time, for all involved. The McClain family had been lucky to have a place in Cuba to hide out during the majority of the events. Then, for everyone’s comfort, they permanently moved there, only visiting London when necessary.

“Should I drive you to the airport? I’ll need to put gas in the car,” Mrs. McClain muses aloud. “You won’t leave before your father gets home will you?”

“No, I’ll wait,” Lance assures her. “And we can take the floo network to the station. I picked up some extra powder when I got my supplies. So don’t worry about the car. We’ve got hours.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she chuckles as the dishes clink together. “I forget the hearth is connected to the network. We almost never use it.”

“Mom, let me take care of those,” he says as he approaches the sink with wand in hand. “The pots at least.”

“No, no, no,” she tells him and bumps him away with her hips. “I need these cups and bowls. They keep me from losing my mind.”

Lance smiles and with a sigh puts his wand back away. He turns his attention to the kitchen window as his father drives up. The older man quickly pulls the old little Polski Fiat onto the street and half up onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t bother to straighten out the car, just jumps from the vehicle, slams the door, and nearly gets run over by a cyclist. He apologizes profusely in Spanish before running up the porch stairs and bursting through the door.

“He hasn’t left yet has he?!” his father exclaims. “Lance?!”

“He’s still here,” his mother calls back. “He hasn’t even finished packing his things.”

It’s true. He still has to make certain all his books are where they need be. He’s already packed away all his clothes and most of his supplies. And his parrot still isn’t in her cage. But they have more than enough time. The train won’t even leave for another six hours.

“Thank goodness,” his father sighs. “I don’t think I could handle another one of our kids leaving without telling me.”

His father comes into the room as Lance is grabbing his books off the kitchen table and surrounds him in a big hug. His father gets so emotional when his kids leave for their first year at Hogwarts. It’s that Cuban blood. Overwhelms him with passion. Lance makes kid number four so today is especially emotional for them.

“Veronica waited as long as she could that year, corazón,” his mom reminds him. “She would have missed the train.”

“I will say, I appreciate the new school reform they put into place after you-know-what,” he sighs and squeezes Lance tighter. “Means I get to hold onto my beautiful children for an extra couple of years. Did you get your transcripts already?”

“Yeah, they came by owl this morning,” Lance assures him, long given up on wiggling out of his father’s hold.

“Gracias a dios,” Mrs. McClain nods as she dries her plates. “Would hate for them to turn you away at the train.”

Lance remembers packing them in an outer pocket on one of his bags. No worries there. He’d literally break down into tears if he had to go through secondary school again. Have to take all the basic spell tests again. Basic Magical History. Basic Potions. Ugh. No thanks. He’s ready for some more interesting things then learning how to remove warts.

Finally he’ll get to join a Quidditch team. A real one. He’s tired of only getting to practice once a week at the Diagon Alley public fields.

He wishes the school systems were the same as back when the great Harry Potter was going through school. Leaving at eleven years old. Studying magic for seven years in the amazing Hogwarts castle. Basically going through middle and high school surrounded by magic. Sounds awesome.

But having so many young and inexperienced wizards in one place...makes it hard for the student body to protect themselves. Especially after what happened during the war. So the new minister of Magic, Hermione Granger herself, put the new reform into place as soon as she took office.  She made some changes via the installation of secondary schools. Setting up the smaller wizard schools for some elementary learning prepares students better and takes a load off the staff and faculty.

That was back all the way back in 2019. So now Hogwarts is more of a college. A badass magical college.

“Your friends, the ones from the States? Will they meet you there?” his mother asks.

“Yeah, at the station,” Lance nods and finally his father releases him.

Pidge and Hunk. He’s known them since he started secondary school.

The three of them usually meet up once a week in Diagon Alley. To play Quidditch and talk about school. Sometimes the two of them tutor Lance in his less practised topics. But most of the time it's just nice being able to hang out and talk with other witches and wizards his age. After his siblings all moved away he’s got no one to share with.

And his parents...they could never really understand.

Lance lets them know he’s still got some packing to do and hurries up the stairs to his room with his books. He tosses his comics and several other tomes into the suitcase before shutting it. The cage for his bird sits empty so he searches the room for her. His mother comes in as he’s checking the closet for the bratty thing.

“Sure you don’t want to take Pan instead?” she asks, the aforementioned bird on her shoulder. The stygian owl peers at him with a glare. It’s never liked him. Or anyone other than Lance’s mother.

“If I take him, how will you send mail to everyone? He’s the _family_ owl,” Lance explains and whistles for his bird.

“Sí, pero…”

“If there’s an emergency I’ll borrow Pidge’s owl,” he assures her and does his olly-olly-oxen free whistle again. There’s a responding giggle from behind a pillow. It sounds just like his sister but she’s away in Ireland. So it must be...he pulls up the pillow and his parrot squawks with surprised laughter. “Found you Ciela. Into the cage.”

She makes a few objectionary noises as she struts away to hide behind another pillow. Lance picks that one up too and she squawks at him.

“No fair! No fair!” she shrieks in Lance’s voice.

“Cut that out,” Lance huffs and points at the cage. “Get in or your new name is Tandoori Chicken.”

More annoyed noises that sound a little too much like Lance when he’s mocking someone. But she obeys, stalking her way across the bed slowly, climbing her way down the bed and then back up the suitcases towards the cage. She’s fully capable of flight but she walks out of protest when she’s mad. These magical parrots are too smart and snarky for their own good.

“This sucks,” she squawks, imitating him perfectly as he takes her seat inside.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you out again once we’re on the train,” Lance sighs, pulling a treat for her from his pocket and passing it through the bars. She takes it and holds it in her talons.

“¡Prisa! ¡Prisa!” Ciela calls out in a woman’s voice that could only be Lance’s mother. Mrs. McClain always reverts to Spanish when she’s flustered.

“We’re not late,” he objects, checking his watch. “The train doesn’t leave for another...five and a half hours. And it’s only like...a ten minute walk from the hearth near the station.”

“Oh!” Lance’s mother grabs his wrist and looks at the watch in a panic. “¡Diferencia horaria! ¡Prisa!”

Time difference? What’s that have to do with…

“Oh crap!” Lance exclaims his eyes wide.

The UK is five hours ahead! He’s only got thirty minutes! Twenty if he takes the walk into account!

He scoops up extra clothes from the dresser and stuffs them into suitcase pockets, not bothering with folding as his mother yells for her husband's help. Grabs his money from a drawer near his bed and pulls things from the shelves and shoves them into his bags without ceremony. Fuck, he hasn’t even showered yet! With a feral yell he runs down the hall, stripping as he goes to hop into a freezing shower.

*****

“Here he comes,” Pidge smirks as she checks her watch. “You owe me ten sickles.”

“I was sure he’d miss the train,” Hunk chuckles and digs into his pocket.

Lance is rushing down the station platform, pushing a cart as fast as he can with his parents on his heels. When he spots the two of them he waves, calling out their names. They wave back and he comes to a stop next to them, panting and wheezing.

“How...much...time…” Lance gasps.

“Five minutes to spare,” Pidge grins and takes the sickles from Hunk’s hand.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. McClain,” Hunk nods politely. “Great day, isn’t it?”

They all do some very quick pleasantries as other wizards rush past them for the platform. Hunk and Pidge say they’ll take his stuff to put in the luggage compartment. That way he can say goodbye to his folks. Lance thanks them as they go and turns to his parents.

“Alright, I’m off,” Lance grins. “You going to be okay without me?”

He wishes he hadn’t said it.

Both his parents eyes water up immediately. Their little Lance is finally going to Hogwarts. That makes his own eyes well up too. It’s emotional for them all and a teary eyed Lance comes in for a big hug. The two of them whimper and sob and Lance does his best to calm them instead of joining in with crying of his own. He promises to visit them for the breaks and manages to barter them down from a letter every day to a letter every week.

They finally let him go when the warning horn toots so he kisses their cheeks. His mom is going to send a care package in a few days. Lance says he’ll send a message to his sister so she’ll check on them every couple of weeks for him.

“Make good grades,” his mom says.

“And friends! Make friends!” his father adds.

“Don’t get hurt,” she begs.

“But show them everything you’ve got,” his father pumps a fist. "But don't start fights!"

“And bring home someone cute for Christmas,” she says, keeping him there longer and longer.

“I will, I will,” Lance promises. “Mom, Dad, I gotta go or I’ll miss the train!”

They go for one more big hug, his mom whispering as she tries to hold back a sob.

“No matter what you do, we’re so proud of you Lance,” she sniffs.

“Thanks mom,” he smiles. “I love you guys.”

Time to go. Lance breaks away from them and runs for the platform, skipping steps as he goes up. He leans out the door as the train whistle blows once more and waves at them as train exits the station. Tears in their eyes but smiles on their faces as they wave back.

This is going to be the first day of the best years of his life. He just knows it.

*****

First things first, he retrieves his bird from her cage. He promised and Lance never goes back on his word.

Once freed, Ciela sits quietly on his shoulder as he explores the train, her head turning to take everything in just like her owner. It’s beautiful. Little designs framing the doors and windows. Gorgeous glass and polished wood. Prettier than anything he’s ever owned in his life. Spared no expense.

Now if he can just find an open compartment to sit in. Being late has made it impossible to find an empty one. As he goes down the line he peers into each room. Full. Full. The next one has a single spot left and it's full of cute girls. Makes Lance grin but then he remembers that he needs to find seats for Hunk and Pidge too so he bypasses it.

Here we go. Someone’s in this one by themself. Shaggy black hair, hand resting in their chin as they look somberly out the window. Plenty of seats if they’re willing to share. Lance knocks to which they sit up and turn their eyes to the door. Lance opens up and sticks his head in.

“You saving those seats for anyone else?” Lance asks.

“No,” he says with a frown.

Oh, it’s a guy. For a second, he thought it was a chick.

“Did you find a open car, Lance?” Pidge asks from down the way. She waits next to Hunk as he buys a bunch of things off the food trolley.

“This guy’s in one all alone,” he calls back and leans his head back in. “Mind if we share it with you?”

“I guess not,” he shrugs. He moves his bag off the seat and puts it on the floor.

Lance slides on in and takes the seat across from him, dropping his carry-on onto the floor. He extends a hand and a friendly smile.

“Name’s Lance. McClain,” he adds. “The best wizard at Hogwarts, starting this year.”

“Stop it,” he says but not to Lance.

His eyes are high in the luggage rack. Up top sits a long haired black cat, ready to pounce but upon its discovery it resettles with an annoyed huff. It lays down, attempting to look less of a threat to the bird it was about to jump on. It’s tail hangs off the edge, harmlessly swinging back and forth.

“Sorry, she’s...” Keith sighs. “She’s not very friendly.

“Uh…”

“Keith,” he finally introduces himself and give Lance’s hanging hand a short shake. “If it’s any consolation Sumi wouldn’t have eaten your bird. Probably.”

“Good to know. I guess. This is Ciela,” Lance nudges her. “Don’t be rude. Say hello.”

“Hey there hot stuff,” she says, imitating Lance while bobbing her head. “Want to dance?”

Keith just raises a suspicious brow, as if questioning what else this bird is used for. If he guessed picking up chicks and dudes alike at the local dance hall then he wouldn’t be wrong. Usually works too. Sometimes Ciela misreads when the right time for that particular hello is supposed to be used. Especially when there are good looking people in the vicinity.

“Sorry...she does that,” Lance coughs and pokes her. “A more _different_ greeting Ciela.”

“Hello friend!” she squawks.

“Better,” Lance compliments and gives her a treat out of his pocket.

So his name is Keith. Cute but...he has a sour look to him, like his natural state is a frown. And he was sitting all by himself. Because he has no friends? Suppose it could be the loner air about him. Said his cat wasn’t friendly but he doesn’t look very friendly himself.

“Sorry that took so long,” Hunk grins as he enters with an armful of snacks.

“Yeah, Hunk had to find out the exact kind of lemons they use for the cookies,” Pidge rolls her eyes.

“Persian Sweet Lemons, by the way,” Hunk notes. “Wrote it down. Want one?”

He extends the pastry to Keith who eyes it but shakes his head. Not hungry. Hunk doesn’t take it personally. One more cookie for him. Lance introduces his friends to Keith who looks like he couldn’t care less. Katie Holt, prefers to go by Pidge. And Hunk Garrett.

“This is Keith...uh…” Lance frowns. “I didn’t catch your last name.”

“Because I didn’t say it,” Keith huffs then sighs. “It’s Kogane.”

Pidge’s eyes go wide and Hunk nearly chokes on a chocolate frog. With a little help from Lance he’s able to clear his throat.

“You’re _Keith Kogane_?” Pidge blinks. “You’re the one who infiltrated the International Duelists Competition in France two years ago.”

“He what?” Lance asks. He’s never heard of this.

“You got all the way to the final matches before they discovered your credentials were forged. And then they pulled you,” Hunk comments. “If you’d won, you’d have been the youngest wizard to win in about...hmmm...two hundred and forty three years?”

“He even took out a seasoned duelist. Last years champ,” Pidge recalls. “It was brutal. I think he lost a finger?”

“Two,” Keith corrects but shrugs as if it isn’t that impressive. “Could have been his whole hand.”

Woah, seriously? Lance can almost say he’s impressed.

“You’re lucky they didn’t ban you from Hogwarts,” says Pidge. “They take misbehavior like that very seriously.”

“Yeah. Why would you risk that?” Lance asks, his brow furrowed.

“Thought it would be a good way to prove myself,” Keith answers.

“To who?”

“Everyone,” Keith answers with a smirk.

Lance isn’t sure if Keith’s exuding confidence or hubris. Whatever it is, he’s got it in spades. Lance takes a box of every flavor beans and begins popping them in his mouth. Peach cream. Popcorn. Ugh, mud pie.

“So, gonna make a name for yourself at Hogwarts?” Lance asks.

“I’ve already made a name for myself,” Keith raises a brow but then shakes his head. “I don’t care about being famous. Just strong.”

Seems pretty uppity for a kid their age. He can’t really be all that good. After all, he got himself caught. Lance would never let that happen to himself. For now, he tries to ignore this feeling in his gut that this guy is going to end up stepping on his toes at Hogwarts. He only hopes Keith doesn’t play quidditch as well as he slings dueling spells.

The lot of them chat for a while about what they’re most looking forward to.

Hunk can’t wait for the feast. Wants to write down every little thing he tries so he can recreate them later for his family. Pidge can’t wait for the classes. She’s tired of the secondary school handling them with kid gloves. Bring on the advanced spells.

Lance can’t wait to meet all the ladies and impress them with his spellwork. Oh and Quidditch of course. He’s ready to be on a broom and scoring goals on the field. Keith has nothing to say on any front but ever friendly Hunk still tries to get him to talk.

“Any idea what House you’ll end up in?” Hunk asks.

“Oh, I’ve already figured out where we’ll all end up,” Lance smirks proudly as he tosses more jelly beans into the air and catches them in his mouth. Pumpkin. Salted watermelon. .

“That so?” Pidge rolls her eyes and cleans her glasses with a quick spell. “Let’s hear what you _think_.”

Lance has given it tons of thought in the past few months.

Pidge, she’ll be in Ravenclaw, hands down. That little nerd couldn’t possibly end up anywhere else. Her brother ended up in Hufflepuff a couple years ago but he was almost a hatstall. He’s just as much of a genius as her but his kind and hardworking nature pulled him to the Hufflepuff side. Pidge is a lot more shrewd than her brother is so...yeah, definitely Ravenclaw.

Hunk...he’s such a sweet lovable guy with a head for common sense. Loyal dude with a helping hand for anyone and everyone. And on top of it all he looks good in yellow. Gotta be a Hufflepuff.

As for Lance himself, he’s pretty sure he’ll end up in Gryffindor like his uncle, sister, and two of his cousins. That or Hufflepuff like his brothers and both his aunts. His grandparents ended up in those two houses as well. The only outlier in his family is a great uncle that ended up in Ravenclaw. So, while he’s not completely certain where he’ll end up, he’s not particularly worried about it. He’s partial to Gryffindor though.

“Excuse me,” a girl interrupts as she opens the door. “Have you seen the trolley? I seemed to have missed it.”

She's a beautiful girl with tanned skin and silver hair that falls in long curling waves. There are alchemical sigils on her cheeks and a pink tint to her blue eyes. There are sparkling earrings dangling from her lobes which match her freshly manicured nails. A vision of beauty.

Lance loses the words he was using to explain his thought process about their placements the longer he stares. An every flavor bean falls out of his mouth. It was strawberry but now it’ll taste like floor.

“It’s that way but it might be empty by now,” Hunk tells her. “Want some of--”

“Hey,” Lance finally composes himself and shoots out of his seat to lean on the door frame. “I’m Lance. If you want you can hang with us and share our snacks.”

“That’s very kind,” she smiles. “But you’re full up and I already have a seat a couple cars down.”

“Hey there pretty lady,” Ciela chirps while bobbing. “Want to dance?”

There goes Ciela again but with the right timing this time. In his mind, Lance pumps his fist proudly. What a good bird!

“How sweet!” she smiles and brushes the bird’s chest making her coo. “Maybe another time little puff. Thank you for the offer. Until we meet again Lance and friends.”

She leaves with a polite nod and closes the door. Lance lets out a heady sigh before returning to his seat dropping into it with hearts in his eyes.

“I wonder what house _she’ll_ be in?” Pidge wonders, a little blush on her own cheeks.

“With any luck, mine,” Lance sighs again. “She’s...the cutest witch I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, you never said what house you think Keith will be in,” Hunk reminds him and then snaps. “Hello, earth to Lance.”

“Hmm?” he hums and then comes back to himself. “Oh right. Keith’s a Slytherin.”

“Your reasoning?” Keith furrows his brows with a disapproving frown.

“Because it would be funny,” Lance shrugs with a grin. “What, you don’t want to be in the evil house? Afraid it’ll tarnish your sterling reputation of _breaking into dueling competitions for personal gain_?”

Keith just gives him another glaring frown.

“Not exactly an unbiased and informed decision, Lance,” Pidge says, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever. Think I’ll take a nap,” Lance says, ignoring her as he stretches. “Tell me when we’re close so I can change into robes?”

“Sure thing,” Hunk chuckles and Lance promptly drops off into sleep.

*****

Keith sits quietly, cat in lap as he pets her. She only does this once in a blue moon and he’s not entirely sure she isn’t doing it to get a better view of Lance’s bird. She keeps one eye open to watch the green parrot as it nestles into Lance’s hood.

Should have gotten his own pet. One that wouldn’t give him so critical an eye all the time. A normal cat. Instead, Shiro foisted off his half-kneazle on him. She’ll keep you safe and keep you out of trouble, he said. Right. Sure. When she isn’t scratching, biting, and hissing in his general direction.

“Pain in my ass,” he huffs.

Just as he rolls his eyes she gives his hand a harsh bite and hops across the seats. She makes herself comfortable next to Lance instead, her eyes scanning over him as he sleeps. It’s the look she gives when she’s judging. Coming to a decision. After a few minutes she hunches down next to his leg until her own legs disappear and she becomes a loaf, vibrating in contentedness.

Traitorous feline.

Lance’s friends talk back and forth about some kind of spell. A charm of some sort so Keith blocks it out. If it’s not good for dueling he loses interest immediately but they pour over a book that the girl is using to prove her point. Hunk still disagrees and Pidge makes a move to shake Lance awake.

“Lance settle something for us,” Pidge says. “The _rictusempra_ spell, it doesn’t work on people who aren’t ticklish, right?”

“Hmm? What? Is it time to change?” Lance blinks awake.

“Come on Lance, _rictusempra_. It wouldn’t work on someone like me, who isn’t ticklish. Right?” Pidge asks.

“It would still work,” Lance yawns and eyes the cat next to him with mute surprise.

“Noooo!” Pidge whines and Hunk pumps a fist. He sticks out a hand and she begrudgingly drops two sickles into it.

“But not the way it’s supposed to. You’d just feel like the wind was knocked out of you,” Lance shrugs.

Lance considers petting the cat for a moment, even raises his hand to try but in the end decides against it. Instead, he pulls a quill from his carryon and twitches it above the cat’s head. She swipes and trills as he sweeps it over her. Makes Lance laugh a little as she rolls around purring. Keith frowns and looks away.

She never plays with Keith like that. Most of the time she ignores him until she wants something. That something usually being food or a warm place to sleep.

Lance’s bird wakes with his laughter and squawks in alarm before making growling noises. She climbs down his arm and bravely tries to nip Sumi’s toes. The cat gives her a little smack, sans claws, before slinking away back to Keith’s side. Ciela continues to growl and puff up to be intimidating while Lance pets her head with a chuckle.

“Protecting me from the big bad kitty?” Lance hums with a smile. The smile disappears when he looks at Keith’s hand. “Did she bite you? You’re bleeding.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Keith huffs. “She bites me all the time. It’ll heal on its own.”

“Don’t you know _episkey_? It’s like, the most basic of healing spells,” Lance suggests.

Lance reaches into his jacket and pulls out a slender rowan wand. He does a little spin with it and gestures for Keith’s hand. Keith huffs and shakes his head.

“I can do it myself,” Keith mumbles.

Keith pulls out his own wand, a sturdy aspen. He points it to the bite mark. Gestures and utters the spell.

Incorrectly.

“Agh,” Keith grumbles in annoyance as it makes a cut instead.

“Whoops,” Lance grimaces. “Not very good with healing, huh?”

“It’s a phoenix core,” Keith huffs. “Makes it testy.”

That and he’s used to doing offensive spells. Not healing ones. He tries again and fumbles under the watchful eye of Lance. Another damnable cut and now he’s getting frustrated. He readies to try it again but Lance waves the wand away.

“Stop, you’re just making it worse,” Lance rolls his eyes. “I do this one all the time anyway.”

Lance grasps his hand firmly and points his wand, keeping it very still unlike what Keith did. Moving the wand while incanting _episkey_ is a great way to fuck it all up. Lance says the words and the cuts begin to feel very warm before turning cold. But all the injuries close up and his skin looks none the worse for wear. Lance turns his hand over and eyes it.

“There,” Lance smirks. “You should practice more. What happened to all your ‘skills’?”

“Hmph,” Keith huffs while taking back his hand. “I would have gotten it eventually.”

“Sure, yeah, okay, after maybe six more tries. If you still had skin afterwards,” Lance says with a roll of his eyes. “Your gratitude is overwhelming by the way. Keep that up, even the Slytherins won’t want to be your friend. And that’s saying something.”

“I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t need any friends,” Keith states and stands. He grabs his carry on and crosses the car. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

He exits, his cat following him out. Then Keith closes the door behind him with more force than necessary before disappearing down the hall, presumably to change clothes in one of the bathrooms.

“What’s his problem?” Lance asks, raising a brow.

“You embarrassed him,” Hunk sighs. “Come on, Lance.”

“What? That? It was playful teasing,” Lance frowns.

“Yeah, we know that but he doesn’t,” Pidge explains. “You should apologize.”

“Ugh, later,” Lance pouts and pets his bird. “After the sorting. By then maybe he’ll have lightened up.”

With that they close the blinds and change for their impending arrival at Hogwarts College of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Give it a kudos! Really like it? Leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
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	2. The Chariot (Reversed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allura doesn't have a canon last name and neither does Lotor...so I made them up *shrug*

_Reversed, [it] suggests that you are feeling as if you have very little control over your life. [It] also suggests that you are collapsing under pressure and losing your self-control. Your aggression is being channeled in the wrong direction, wildly at other people, at fate, at external circumstances.  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

What a place.

The three of them stand there looking up at the massive castle that is Hogwarts. Looks just like his comic books, right down to the spires and the color of the stones. Lance can feel himself ready to burst with excitement before they even get through the main entrance. All the students around him look much the same.

Older students carry the new student’s bags from the train while asking that they cage their pets until after the Feast. Nothing to worry about as the animals will be safe. Ciela goes but not quietly. Once that’s handled the second years take the luggage into the main hall. They promise that by the time they get sorted and finish their feast all their stuff should be in their respective houses.

“This way Freshman,” says a tall dude with a scar on his cheek. He squints a little in confusion and then asks, “That you Katie?”

“Matt!” Pidge shouts and tackles him. “Where are your glasses?”

“Broke them already,” he laughs. “A little scrimmage on the field and took a bludger to the face. Cut me up pretty good but nothing the nurse couldn’t handle. Gives me an excuse to get new frames.”

He’s a third year from what Lance remembers. Matt sometimes came to the community Quidditch field to watch them play. Hard to believe he’s the captain of the Hufflepuff team. He’s always tripping over things or getting hurt due to his somewhat clumsy nature. So it’s no surprise that he’s got another Quidditch injury before the school year has even started.

Matt gestures them all to follow as he gives a little tour of the entrance hall. The speech feels a little rehearsed but it’s enthusiastic so they all listen as he goes. At one point Matt switches off with three other older students, one from each house, and they continue the spiel wherever the previous leaves off. Super rehearsed.

Lance is itching to keep it moving. He keeps eying the hallway that he’s sure leads to the Great Hall. That’s when he spots a familiar mop of hair.

Keith again. He never did come back to the train car after he stormed out. The brooding guy stands off to the side, arms crossed and paying no attention at all to the speakers. Right now they’re talking about the different houses. Only when they mention Gryffindor does Keith’s head shoot up, interest finally piqued.

Want to be in Gryffindor, huh? Lance smirks and spins his wand a little in excitement. Good luck with that.

“No one house is better than the others,” says the pretty Ravenclaw prefect. “While all houses have colorful histories, none of the houses, and I mean _none of them_ , is without a single dark spot on its record.”

“So don’t go thinking you got into a house without flaws,” says Matt. “I’m looking at you future Gryffindors.”

Everyone laughs a little at that. Being a part of the house that the great Harry Potter was in was everyone’s dream at some time or another. Some liked to call it the hero house after the Battle of Hogwarts, though teachers try to discourage that type of talk. Just like they try to keep any from claiming only villains end up in Slytherin.

Just because they try to promote those ideas doesn’t mean it works. Even now, decades later, many look at Slytherin with distaste. Lance gets it. No one wants to be a part of the house that got Albus Dumbledore killed. The house that churned out bad witches and wizards for centuries, including the worst of them all. The one that always comes to mind whenever someone mentions Slytherin in conversation.

Just thinking about the name brings a cold shiver down Lance’s back.

“Now, we’ll head to the Great Hall to get you all sorted,” Matt tells them. “I look forward to seeing some of you at the Hufflepuff table.”

The Slytherin and Ravenclaw prefects lead the way into the Great Hall while Matt and the Gryffindor one follow behind the group to keep others from wandering off. Lance sticks with his friends but scans the crowd for others.

Keith’s far ahead of him but the beautiful girl from the train is nearby. She’s talking with a few other girls but looks over at him and gives a friendly wave. A little gray rat hides behind her long hair, chewing on the ends. Lance blinks with surprise. Prettiest freshman at Hogwarts...has a pet rat and disobeyed the rules on caging pets before the feast.

A girl after his own heart.

He suddenly gets distracted by the doors opening into the Great Hall. Light, music, and the smell of food flood into the hallway making every student’s mouth water. Already Hunks got his little chef’s notebook out, ready for notes. He does know they don’t eat until after the sorting, doesn’t he?

They’re led down the long walkway past the dinner tables. At each one there are students upon students. Four, third, and second years and all of them clapping for the freshman class. Applause. Now Lance could get used to this.

He smiles and shoots finger guns at all the upperclassman, gesturing a cellphone and mouthing ‘call me’ to particularly cute ones to make them giggle.

“Look at the floating candles,” Pidge stares in awe. “Wonder if it’s a permanent _wingardium_ spell? Maybe just an illusion. Wonder who’d know? The Charms professor? Or History of Magic professor?”

“Who cares? It’s only the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Lance smirks. “Wish I had a camera.”

“Man, I smell food but I don’t see it,” Hunk says taking another deep inhale of the room. “They’re obfuscating it for some big reveal. I’m onto you headmaster.”

The group comes to a stop near the front and conglomerate around a stool with a ratty looking wizards hat on it. That must be it. The sorting hat.

It doesn’t look magical at all but...that’s what decides someone’s house and consequently what their four years at Hogwarts will be like. The hat that sorted the legendary trio into Gryffindor!

Lance hopes he can volunteer to go first.

“Welcome students,” says the man at the center of the professors' table. He stands and gestures to them again. “I am the headmaster of Hogwarts. I’m sure you know my name but I’ll repeat it for those of you who don’t.”

Alfor Lamba. The wizard who took over after the Battle of Hogwarts. Well, after McGonagall. He looks...so cool. Regal bearing and silvered hair. White robes with golden accents. The man looks like a king and he just oozes charisma and a type of gentle kindness. According to the Daily Prophet, he was a world-renowned Alchemist before becoming headmaster. Made some amazing advancements in longevity potions. Still does when he has the time.

What a cool guy. Lance heard he was a Gryffindor too.

He finishes his speech and Lance misses nearly all of it from staring starstruck. Alfor gestures to his fellow professors and introduces them all, including the subject they teach. Most of the teachers look older and some of which he recognizes from his comics.

That’s professor Flitwick. Still looks pretty spry for an old guy. He’s even the head of Ravenclaw house still. And...holy shit! That’s Minerva McGonagall! She’s still alive?! She’s gotta be...ninety now? A hundred? Older? And she’s teaching again? And head of Gryffindor House?

Would she sign his comic book for him? Now’s probably not the time to ask…

Alfor goes down the table in line announcing them all. The Potions teacher isn't in attendance but they announce her nonetheless. Something about a time senstive poultices she's working on. But everyone else seems to be there. After introducing the Herbology, Astronomy, and History of Magic professors he gets to the end.

“And last but not least, our newest and youngest addition to the faculty,” Alfor gestures. “Professor Shirogane. He’ll be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

A wizard in his late twenties. Tall with broad shoulders. Black well kept hair with a streak of white through it. It’s slicked back for now in some attempt to look especially formal for the occasion. Strong jawline but soft eyes. Lance has to admit, he looks good in his black dress robes.

“I look forward to seeing you in my classroom,” the man says as he stands to give them a respectful bow. "Is it time, Headmaster?"

“Go ahead professor,” Alfor nods and takes his seat.

Professor Shirogane approaches the stool with a scroll of parchment in his hand. It looks...artificial, his hand. A magical apparatus made of metal to replace a lost limb. It whirs and clicks as he moves. Many students blatantly stare at it but come back to themselves when he clears his throat to start the sorting.

They’re not sure how the list is organized because it’s not alphabetical. By first or last name. Maybe it’s by test scores. Or districts. Countries. Whatever it is, the anticipation is killing Lance as he can’t predict who’s going to be called up first.

A few students get sorted before anyone Lance knows goes. The first Slytherin is announced after five people. A tall, long-haired guy by the name of Lotor. Silver hair and prideful smile as he descends the stairs to join his house. His last name sounds familiar to Lance, like it’s been announced already. That of one of the teachers? Maybe he’s their son. Or grandson.

“Katie Holt,” he announces next.

Lance wishes her luck and she gives him a fist bump before going up on the stool. Shiro lowers the hat onto her head and Pidge’s sorting begins as it comes to life. Less than a minute later it shouts its answer.

“Ravenclaw!”

“Knew it,” Lance claims boldly and gives her the thumbs up.

After the applause dies down Hunk is called up next. Pidge returns to the group instead of heading immediately to her table so she can watch them get sorted up close. The hat is placed on Hunk’s head and Lance is shocked when it doesn’t immediately announce Hufflepuff. It hums and mumbles and muses for nearly four minutes before announcing.

“Ravenclaw!”

“What?” Lance exclaims, perplexed.

“I’m not actually surprised at all,” Pidge smirks.

Hunk hops down and gives Pidge a big high five. Same house. Nice. A few more students go before someone else Lance has been looking forward to seeing get sort steps up there.

“Allura Lamba.”

The silver-haired girl makes her way up to the stool and elegantly takes a seat. The others lean and whisper their gossip.

Lamba. Isn’t that the headmaster’s name? Yes, that’s right! Then she’s descended from a great Gryffindor. But she doesn’t much look like she’d be one too. She gives their party a little wave from the seat before the hat is placed onto her head.

Oh please oh please. Let her end up in his house, Lance prays. Ten seconds later it shouts Hufflepuff and she looks pleased as punch about it.

“Just like mother,” she smiles as the professor removes the hat.

“Congratulations Allura,” he nods. “Next up, Keith Kogane.”

Keith doesn’t hesitate. Lance watches intently as he strides up the short round of stairs, skipping some and onto the stool in seconds. He tries to look calm, almost zen as he puts his hands on his lap but his feet fidget a little. The hat is lowered and within a minute it shouts and Lance is supremely disappointed in the decision.

“Gryffindor!”

“No way,” Lance grumbles under his breath. Sour guy like that? In Gryffindor?

Keith takes the hat off and hands it to the professor. He shoots a look over his shoulder, a proud smirk leveled at Lance which only makes him rankle further with annoyance.

What a jerk. Rubbing in the fact that Lance was not only wrong but he got into the house Lance desperately wants. Keith then takes off for the Gryffindor table, not bothering to stick around with the dwindling group yet to be sorted.

Another dozen go and Lance gets more and more antsy. When is it _his_ turn? The longer this goes on the more he worries that he’s not on the list. That maybe there was an error. That he's not even supposed to be here. But his anxiety is lifted when the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher finally calls his name.

Lance McClain.

He hesitates for a mere second before climbing the stairs two at a time. This is it. Time to get sorted. Takes his seat and the hat is dropped onto his head.

It’ll probably take a while, Lance thinks. After all he’s a pretty complicated indiv--

“Slytherin!” it shouts after ten seconds of deliberation.

Everything comes crashing down. The room goes deathly silent and cold, his thundering heart landing firmly in his stomach.

What? That...that can’t be right. Lance sits there looking stunned. He’s supposed to be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Just like his sister or his brothers. Not...he’s not supposed to be in Slytherin. That house is for...well it’s not for him. How could this happen? Is the hat broken?

“Congratulations Lance,” Professor Shirogane smiles.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows and tries to smile but it’s not very convincing. “Thanks.”

Pidge and Hunk give him sympathetic smiles. They feel for him. His heart was so set on the other houses. It’s all he ever talked about when they hung out.

Lance shoots a glance over at Keith who’s already doing his job as a Gryffindor, shooting him an unimpressed frown. Their houses eternal rivals. Many other Gryffindor freshman regard him with suspicious eyes and frowns of their own so Lance straightens up and smiles. One of his best fake ones yet.

“Well, Slytherin finally has a chance at winning the House Cup, now that I’m here,” he says, faking bravado as he hops off the stool. “It’s been what? Ten years? They’ll probably win it the next four years running thanks to me alone. Slytherin’s lucky to have me.”

It’s not how he feels but it’s better than letting anyone see how much it bothers him. Fabricating a smile is easy. Go with the flow. Adapt. Maybe he can talk to the Headmaster later. The hat clearly made a mistake. Needs to be recharmed or something. Surely the guy who runs Hogwarts can change that, right? There’s always exceptions to the rules but somehow...there’s a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him otherwise.

For now he returns to his friends. They give him a pat on the shoulder before they all split off to their respective tables. With a tight smile, Lance takes a seat next to another Slytherin freshman.

“Finally another Slytherin that doesn’t look at this house like it’s a curse,” he says. “It _is_ the best house, you know.”

“Uh, yeah,” Lance agrees with him but his smile is forced. “Even better now that we’re in it.”

“Lotor,” he grins and shakes Lance’s hand. “Both my parents are professors here. And both of them were in Slytherin too.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great,” Lance nods. “Must be nice to see them every day.”

“It is, especially when that means you get a heads up on anything the class is going to go over ahead of time,” Lotor explains. “There won’t be a single potions or history class that Slytherin doesn’t earn all the points in.”

Good to know. Lance is terrible at potions and history makes him snore. Might be a good idea to make friends with this guy. He seems a little...pretentious but so far he doesn’t seem terrible. He’s not _using_ this guy, just _utilizing_ his advantages. Anything to be the best right?

“Gryffindor has won the last four years in a row,” Lotor huffs, looking in their direction with distaste. “Think because Harry Potter was in their House that it makes them heroes by association. That they don’t have to earn respect like he did.”

The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin hasn’t wavered much in the past several years. Mostly due to old thinking and preconceived notions passed down from family members. Gryffindors still regard Slytherins as sneaky and underhanded. Slytherins continue to see Gryffindors as arrogant and short tempered. Perhaps that will never change.

Lance looks over at the Gryffindor table with a sigh. That’s where he’s supposed to be.

When the food is revealed all the students gasp in awe. Perfectly cooked turkey legs, seasoned roast beef, barbecued pork chops. All forms of potatoes and other vegetables. It all smells divine, certainly a feast fit for kings but...Lance can’t seem to find his appetite. All he manages to do is poke his food around a little.

Before long Lance stands while asking a prefect where the restrooms are. After being given directions, he takes off down the halls. It gets quieter and quieter until he finds the door. Once inside he closes himself into a stall and sits on the lid of the toilet with a sigh.

Slytherin. He can’t believe this. There’s got to be a way to fix this. He shakes his head in disappointment. No, he remembers hearing someone, maybe it was his sister, saying that once the hat chooses that’s that. No take backs. His eyes well up with tears as he thinks about his parents.

Lance, a Slytherin? They’re...going to be so disappointed.

The bathroom door creaks open and immediately he wipes his eyes. Not that anyone can see him hiding in this stall crying

“Lance? You in there buddy?” Hunk calls in.

Of course, Hunk would come check on him. Pidge is probably out there too. 

“Uh, yeah, just uh…” Lance starts and pulls some toilet paper to blow his nose. “Think I’m catching a cold. Probably from someone on the train.”

“Don’t worry about the sorting Lance,” Pidge chimes from the hall. “It’s not like it changes anything. We’re still your friends. We’re just, not in the same dorms.”

“Yeah, no biggie,” Hunk adds. “I mean, being Slytherin doesn’t mean you’re bad. Wasn’t Merlin in Slytherin?”

“Exactly,” Pidge exclaims. “And he’s arguably the most famous wizard of all time. More so than Harry Potter. Even the muggles have heard stories about him.”

That _is_ true and it does make him feel a _little_ better. Yeah. Everyone knows Merlin’s name. He wasn’t a bad guy and he was a Slytherin. Lance wipes his eyes again and blows his nose. Yeah, he'll be fine. He just needs to get used to it.

“Thanks guys,” he sniffs. “I’ll uh...I’ll be back to the feast in a bit.”

“Cool, don’t miss dessert,” Hunk tells him. “I heard there’s pumpkin tarts and chocolate eclairs.”

They leave and the door creaks closed again. Lance takes a deep breath and exits the stall.

A cold wet paper towel over his eyes for a few seconds should reduce the redness and swelling. If he knew a spell for it he’d use one. It works well enough and after a thorough looking over he finds himself presentable enough to go back.

But on the way back he runs into the one person he doesn’t want to see. Keith’s coming down the hall with his hands in his pockets and looking at the walls with disinterest. There are two other Gryffindors with him too. His eyes fall on Lance as he approaches, they narrow slightly with a smirk as they come to a stop.

“Slytherin...shocking,” he says, smug look on his face.

Lance feels like he’s being baited but he plays it cool. He shrugs nonchalantly and sweeps a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well...one of the greatest wizards in history was Slytherin,” Lance smirks. “So-”

“Ugh,” Keith huffs and rolls his eyes. He then shoots a heated glare. “You’re one of _his_ _fanboys_.”

“One of…?” Lance furrows his brow in confusion before he realizes who Keith’s referencing. Only the worst of the worst could earn a glare like that and Lance is appalled at the suggestion. And now he’s angry too. “No! Of course not! I meant Merlin you moron!”

The insult seems to light an ember in Keith's eyes. 

“Call me a moron again, and it’ll be the last thing you say today,” Keith threatens through clenched teeth. The other two Gryffindors watch the energy sparking between them, ready to egg him on further with their grins.

“Screw you. You don’t even know me and you just accused me of--! Just because I’m in Slytherin?!”

Lance can’t believe he’s saying this. It wasn’t long ago that he thought the same thing. Slytherin is the house for evil. For bigots. For years it was full of purebloods and they weren’t shy about broadcasting it. They looked down on every other witch or wizard that wasn’t just like them.

But Lance isn’t like that. He’d never…

“McClain...isn’t that a pureblood name?” the girl asks.

“I don’t doubt it,” the other boy smirks, looking unimpressed and condescending as he steps forward to crowd into Lance’s space. “Parents must be so proud. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I guess.”

Lance's fist flies without restraint and immediately cracks the boy hard in the nose before he can comprehend what’s happened. The girl shouts in shock as her classmate hits the ground with a howl. She quickly books it down the hall with a shriek as he curls up cupping his bloody nose with whimpers. Keith stays, taking a step between Lance and the broken-nosed boy.

“Son of a--” the boy stammers through his pain.

“Take it back,” Lance grumbles through clenched teeth.

How dare he insult his parents? They can call Lance whatever they want but to even hint that his parents are purist trash...to insinuate that they’re the kind of people that approve of everything You-Know-Who did...That kid’s going to have bruises that his grandchildren will inherit if he doesn’t take it back.

He gives Keith a glare but he doesn’t waver, just holds his ground.

“Get out of my way,” Lance threatens and stalks closer. “Or I’ll bloody you up too.”

“I’m not scared of cowards who open with a sucker punch,” Keith says, his eyes flashing with challenge.

Lance almost growls at the insult. Calling Lance a coward? How dare--he’ll show him who’s the coward. He lunges for Keith, tackling him to the ground.

A punch. Two. Then three. Only one makes a solid hit on Keith’s face, right on the cheek. He’ll feel it later, but right now he’s pissed that Lance has the high ground, pinning him with his knees to keep him down. Lance keeps wailing on Keith’s blocking arms waiting for another opening.

But Lance is the one who shows an opening first. Keith socks him in the stomach which provides him an opportunity to flip them and hit back. One right on the mouth. A second hit there splits his lip and Lance tastes blood. It fills his mouth and drips down his chin in a thick stream.

“Had enough?” Keith asks as he struggles to keep Lance from moving.

Lance spits blood into his face and in the distraction flips them again. Keith’s back on the ground with Lance above him. A solid punch to the eye stuns Keith. His vision whites out for a second but it’s long enough to allow Lance the chance to wrap his hands around Keith’s throat. Keith’s own hands belatedly grasp at Lance’s and try their damndest to pull him off. It's not working, his grip is solid and squeezing.

“Let’s see you...protect that asshole...when you’re...unconscious,” Lance pants, blood dripping from his lip and onto Keith’s face.

“ _Carpe retractum_!” call out two voices.

In an instant Lance feels something loop around him, pinning his arms and then a hard yank pulls him off Keith to crash onto the ground fifteen feet away. The same thing happens to Keith. A golden orange lasso of sorts grabs and pulls him away with rough pull sliding them an additional twenty feet apart. While Lance submits to the charm Keith continues to wriggle, straining to get himself free while his red-hot glare stays on Lance.

“That will be quite enough!” shouts a stern voice.

Eyes fall on the Transfiguration professor, the one and only Professor McGonagall. The years have done nothing to dampen that refined posture or the strength of her spell. But boy does she look perturbed, her pursed lips pressed together in disapproval. Next to her stands the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, his wand’s lasso holding tight on Keith.

“Only the first day and this is how you celebrate it,” she sighs, tired but not particularly surprised. “Some things never change. Mr. Siegfried, please head to the nurse's ward. As for you two…Professor? Your thoughts?”

“Ten points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin,” Shirogane announces. “Houses are for healthy rivalry. Not fist fights. Keith, you know better.”

“I didn’t start it Shir--!”

“I don’t care how it started,” he interrupts and levels a warning eye. “It’s _over_.”

They release the spell and both of them are freed.

Keith looks terrible. A black eye already swelling up, as well as a bruise on his cheek. There’s a red mark around his neck from where Lance was choking him but that’s already starting to dissipate. His face and clothes are covered in the splatter of Lance’s blood. He’s still breathing hard, his body rigid as he finally stands, as if not quite ready for the fight to end. Keith takes a single step towards Lance but Professor Shirogane stands between them giving him a frown.

Lance looks down on his clothes and lets out an annoyed sigh. Blood from his busted lip is all over his cardigan and button up. Gross. He pulls his wand and immediately casts _Tergeo_ to siphon the blood out of it. Then a quick _episkey_ spell for his lip. Done. Other than the forming bruise on his stomach he doesn’t look any worse for wear.

“Return to the Great Hall with me, young Slytherin,” McGonagall gestures. “I’ll make certain you get to your seat.”

“Keith, you stay here with me,” the professor demands. “Until you’ve got your head on again.”

Keith lets out an annoyed grumble and watches as Lance leaves with McGonagall. Eyes trying to burn holes into the back of his head. Once they’re out of earshot the professor turns to Keith with a dissapointed sigh.

“What happened?”

“He started it Shiro!” Keith says again.

“I don’t care about that part,” Shiro also repeats. “Explain yourself.”

“He...was going to beat up Siegfried,” Keith tells him though it’s not the whole truth. “I had to fight. To protect him.”

“Uh huh,” Shiro nods but not as if he approves. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. Just that if I didn’t move he’d fight me,” Keith huffs, his arms crossed.

“Siegfried. What did Siegfried say to that boy?” Shiro clarifies.

“Tch,” Keith hisses. “Who knows what set him off?”

“Hmph,” Shiro says, rubbing his forehead with mild frustration. “Regardless, there’s always an option besides fighting. Try to remember that while you’re here. Too many incidents like this and not even my good word will be able to get you back in. Understand?”

Keith doesn’t answer, just hugs his crossed arms close as he clenches his teeth in annoyance.

“ _Understand_?” Shiro asks, his voice serious and firm. Keith nods. “Good. Go clean up a little in the bathroom. And stop by the nurse after the feast.”

Keith sighs but nods his understanding before heading off to the bathroom to do as he’s told.

*****

Lance worries that everyone will be looking at him when he comes in with McGonagall. He’s right of course. The girl from Gryffindor has already spread the rumor that Lance started a fight with two of her classmates. That he threw the first punch. When asked why he did it the common response overheard is ‘Well, he’s a _Slytherin_. When do they ever need a reason?’.

It’s a little disheartening. Only the first day and the whole student body thinks he’s some jerk that beats people up with no provocation at all. When Lance’s eyes meet another house’s they quickly look away and whisper.

Great. Not exactly the reputation he was shooting for. Instead of starting at square one he’ll be working his way up from negative ten.

At least his own house still likes him, despite the fact he cost them ten points already. The rumor travels fast and other Slytherin Freshman are congratulating him on his victory. They’re glad someone took those Gryffindors down a peg. It does feel good to win but none of the other houses look at him with respect. It’s mostly disgust now.

Dessert is boring and Lance can’t recall if he eats even a single bite. More than once he glances over at the Gryffindor table. Keith’s still sporting the bruises on his face and looking incredibly put out. He won’t even talk to his housemates. He just prods at his food and frowns.

He’s pissed because he lost. To a Slytherin. When it was three against one. Well, two against one. And Lance still whooped his ass. Part of him is glad to see that Keith’s just as miserable as he is. The other part of him wishes he’d just walked away. It’s the smarter thing to do but he let his pride get in the way.

Another thing his parents won’t be pleased about.

The Feast ends and it’s time the Head Girls and Head Boys take each house to their prospective dormitories. It’s the last Lance will see of his friends until classes tomorrow. He gives Hunk and Pidge a wave which they return with big smiles. Maybe because they haven’t heard the rumor yet.

He doubts they’d believe it anyway.

*****

The Slytherin Dormitory is way cooler than he ever expected it to be. His comics make it out to be dismal and bleak like the setting for a gothic horror story, but not everything can be believed it seems.

It is a little dark since it is in the old dungeons after all but it’s dimly lit with green flamed lanterns all about. Lots of dark wet looking stone and green accenting the walls and furniture. But the massive window to the lake more than makes up for the gloomy surroundings.

The first thing Lance does is push his mug against the glass to peer into the lake. It’s too late at night to see anything more than distant shadows. A little spooky but he imagines it’s cooler during the daytime.

“Don’t tap on the glass,” a prefect warns him. “The grindylows hate it.”

“Oh, but the selkies are a fan. Someone taught them morse code about twenty years ago,” an older girl mentions with a giggle. “They LOVE gossip.”

She taps the glass in a rapid rhythm. Something short. Lance wonders if she asked them to say hello because the window is suddenly filled with shadows and faces pressing in. Hands flat on the glass and eyeing the new members of the house. Everyone gasps and after the initial shock wears off they squeeze in close to look. One of the selkies taps out a short message and they look to the prefects for translation.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she reveals. “Good luck with your studies.”

The new students all look back to the sea folk with beaming grins, waving as they disappear into the murky depths of the lake. Wow. Would anyone object to him sleeping in front of the window tonight? He swears he can hear singing on the other side. Like a lullaby.

“Here’s the morse code guide if you want to learn,” points out another Slytherin. “But try not to bother them too late. They gotta sleep too.”

“Speaking of, lights out is in about...half an hour,” says the Head Boy. “Your things are already up in your rooms. Feel free to unpack or veg out here until then.”

They nod and split off into a dozen different groups. Lance just sits and stares at the window for a moment longer, hoping the selkies will come back. They don’t. Disappointed he heads on up to boys’ side to find his things and unpack. It takes poking his head into a few rooms before he finds the one he’s sharing with three others.

First he lets Ciela out and she flaps her way to his shoulder with indignant noises. Clearly, he took too long to get her out so she sits there, pointedly tilting her face away so that she won’t have to acknowledge him. His bedmates have two tanks with snakes in them. A boa and a corn snake. The last bed has a large grey cat sprawled on it and Lance frowns with apprehension.

Oh boy, not another one.

“Don’t worry,” says a familiar voice and Lance turns to face him. “She’s blind as a bat and lazy on top of it all.”

“Lotor right?” he confirms. “Forgot to say, I’m Lance. Your cat?”

“Narti’s her name,” he explains. “Cat hair is a core ingredient in about a dozen potions and poisons. Even more potent if it’s a Kneazle crossbreed.”

“That so?” Lance blinks. “She friendly?”

“I suppose,” he shrugs. “She regards fairly everything with indifference. I’ve never been bitten by her and to my knowledge she’s never bitten anyone else. Human or animal.”

A relief to hear. Lance takes a seat on this bed and kicks back. He can hear water rushing by through the stones. A few small porthole windows line the wall but they’re dark. In the daylight he imagines they light up the room a bit and give a nice view into the lake. Seems cozy enough.

Ciela walks across his chest and pokes her head into his pocket looking for snacks. He does nothing to stop her. Just stares at the ceiling in contemplation.

“Did you always want to be in Slytherin?” Lance wonders.

“Of course,” Lotor answers, taking a seat on his own bed. “My parents were in Slytherin. And they’re both amazing magical folk. They were in the battle of Hogwarts forty years ago.”

“Oh yeah...they fought against…?” Lance starts but feels ashamed when he realizes how it sounds.

“Hahahahaha!” Lotor laughs heartily. “They weren’t death eaters if that’s what you were itching to know.”

“Sorry,” Lance apologizes.

“Not to worry,” Lotor waves his hand to dismiss his apology.

He’s well aware of the negative schools of thought in regards to Slytherin. So were his parents. They were first year students then and did not think anyone would allow them to help at the battle for Hogwarts. That’s why they stole Hufflepuff uniforms to disguise themselves, so they could stay and fight.

“Pretty sly,” Lance nods with a smile.

“That’s what it means to be Slytherin,” Lotor smirks proudly. “Cunning. Resourcefulness. Ambition. Brotherhood. We make good leaders. After all, You-Know-Who was a dark wizard but you cannot deny he knew how to lead. How else did he manage to get so many devout followers?”

Lance never thought of it that way. None of the traits of a Slytherin are inherently bad per se. And looking on them now he sees that more than one suits him well. He’s not as smart as a Ravenclaw but he thinks fast on his feet. And he always had the respect of the community Quidditch group in terms of being captain. No one questioned his leadership.

Maybe the signs were always there.

“I’ve learned the best Slytherin is one that unapologetically embraces their gifts,” Lotor finishes up. “Being sharp and inventive is what we’re good at. We set high standards for ourselves and high goals too. Push us into a corner and we’ll find a way out, regardless of the means. That hardly makes us evil.”

“You’re right,” Lance admits and turns with a smile. “Thanks. Kinda needed this pep talk.”

“A pep talk? Is that what I was doing?” Lotor asks with a raised brow and a smirk. “I was merely explaining my philosophy to a fellow Slytherin brother.”

Lance smiles at that with a roll of his eyes. Sure he was. Brotherhood, huh? He can get behind that.

A third-year comes in with a knock. Lights out in five minutes. They don’t have to sleep but they can’t be loud. All they ask is that students remember they have classes tomorrow.

Not long after that, the other two roommates come in and flop onto their beds with hardly a word. They’re exhausted second-years that spent their evening moving luggage to the rooms.

“Anyone got a spare pair of socks? There was a spill in the common room and I stepped through it,” one of them asks and raises a hand to catch any.

“Certainly.”

Lotor rifles through a suitcase and tosses the rolled up socks, pegging the student in the back of the head. They hardly move in response, just drop their hand with another exhausted sigh. Both Lotor and Lance laugh a little.

“Thanks, you little shits,” they sigh and slowly move to change.

“Someone get the light,” the other asks. “My everything hurts.”

“Got it,” Lance announces and noxes the two lamps.

Everyone settles in and things get quiet. Nothing but the breathing of sleeping students and the humming lullaby from the Lake. Lance always imagined it was freezing in the dungeons but with the reassurance that he’s not truly alone, he feels just a little bit warmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. The Page of Pentacles (Upright)

_[This] approaches further education and study with great enthusiasm and energy. [It] typically shows when a completely new skill is being learned and applied. That said, you may also see this card when you are about take a new direction in your career.  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

The first day of classes are nothing but review and everyone hates it. It’s all incredibly basic stuff that everyone knows. For god’s sake they can read a syllabus, why are they even here?

Everyone stays awake for Transfigurations. If they don’t chances are McGonagall will turn them into a mole or garden snail. With her skill, she could probably do both at the same time. And no one wants to find out what that will feel like.

Lance remembers reading that for a good couple of years she was Headmistress of Hogwarts. But at the beginning of class during her intro she explains that she grew tired of it. She hated all the administrative burdens. So she abdicated to Alfor who is far more inclined to politics than she. Besides, she missed her students as teaching was always her first love.

He still needs to find time to ask for her autograph.

History of Magic is boring beyond belief and he’s trying so hard to stay awake. Zarkon Daibaz is the teacher. A hulkingly huge man in thick burgundy robes sporting a stern face and a deep voice. Assigned seats. Alphabetically. Lots of rules. He has no sense of humor to speak of and Lance can’t believe he’s related to Lotor in the slightest.

Next is Herbology and it’s just as boring but at least he gets to sit near Pidge and Hunk. They catch up a little before the teacher arrives, describing their dorms and people they’ve met.

A friendly older man by the name of Longbottom shows up. Says that yes, he’s that Longbottom and he won’t be fielding questions about the Second Wizarding War during class. But they’re welcome to talk to him about it during lunch or dinner in the Great Hall. He then begins teaching the class and, like all the others, starts with a syllabus.

So Lance figures they can talk under him.

“Heard you got into a brawl,” Hunk mentions.

“Yeah, with a bunch of Gryffindors,” Pidge snickers. “Gotta live up to that old Slytherin creed starting on the first day, huh?”

“It’s not true is it?” Hunk asks.

“Uh...well,” Lance grimace smiles.

“Ravenclaws--Hunk and Pidge. As well as Lance from Slytherin,” Longbottom calls out, his memory exceptionally sharp. “If you want to risk losing points for your houses, just keep talking.”

The other students chuckle a little at their embarrassment before returning their eyes up front. They apologize and stay quiet for the rest of his explanation. When Longbottom asks the class to recall a specific item requirement on the syllabus Hunk answers correctly, earning Ravenclaws five points.

Lance looks over the room and finds Keith on the other side. Seems to be a common thing for him. In each of their classes so far Keith has taken any efforts he can into sitting as far from Lance as possible. Is it intentional or just coincidence?

Probably trying to keep from tempting fate. A good idea.

He shrugs and faces forward to the front of the classroom but his eyes occasionally wander back. Looks like Keith went to the nurse. No more swelling on his face. His sleeves are rolled up thanks to the warm classroom. It exposes some bruising that likely came from blocking Lance’s wailing strikes. He must have neglected to tell Madame Pomfrey about them. Does make him look tougher he supposes.

Whatever. What does Lance care? As long as Keith’s keeping his rude ass comments and his cronies to himself, he could care less what the brooding student does.

*****

Keith found the Astronomy class super boring. Taught by a man with a foreign accent that he couldn’t quite place. Danish. Swedish. Something. Looked a little like he could be Shiro’s distant cousin but as far as he knows Shiro only has a younger sister.

Lunch is the best thing that’s happened all day. He missed breakfast. Keith grabs an empty plate and scans the room for a good spot.

Everyone’s sitting everywhere. No one’s staying specifically at their House tables. Good. Means he can sit wherever he likes as far from noise as possible. There’s a couple of Ravenclaws pouring over some books on the west side. They’re always pretty quiet when they’re reading.

He sits and piles up his plate, ready to eat his meal in peace. The calm lasts a mere five seconds. Two bites in and Lance takes a seat three down from him next to his friends.

Right...there was a reason he didn’t want to eat with the Ravenclaws after all. He raises the hood of his robe in an attempt to make a buffer between their conversation and his meal because hell if he’s moving. Seems to have worked because Lance doesn’t shoot any looks his way. Doesn’t even notice him.

They chatter for a while about herbology. Well, Hunk does anyway. He finds it all very fascinating. He has two different notebooks for the class so he can divide his research between potion making and cooking. You better believe at multiple points that year he’s going to ask ‘hey, is this edible?’ and ‘what would happen if you added this to a stew?’

“What’s the next class?” Lance asks as he chows down.

“Charms,” Pidge answers, stirring her tea with a hovering finger before sipping it.

“Think we’ll get to do anything? Or just...more notes?” Lance sighs with disappointment. “I’m sick of all this writing crap.”

That’s one thing Keith can agree with him on. Less notes more action.

“Flitwick likes games and is pretty laid back. Maybe we’ll get to do _something_ ,” Pidge shrugs.

“And after Charms?” Hunk asks.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Pidge reveals and Hunk shrinks back a little. “Yeah, I know. You hate that stuff.”

“Oh yeah, that Shirogane guy teaches that class,” Lance remembers. “He did this spell. Uh...like a lasso. Never even heard of it. And he’s got wicked strength. He can pull a student halfway down the hall with it and not even break a sweat.”

Now that he thinks about it, McGonagall did that too and now he has a newfound respect (and healthy fear) of the old woman.

“Sounds like an advanced spell,” Hunk muses. “Doubt he’ll teach it this year.”

“Damn,” Lance curses. “And I wanted to learn it.”

Keith smirks and drinks from his cup. So Lance doesn’t know the _carpe retractum_ spell. Well, that’s one he’s got up on the Slytherin.

Shiro taught him that one a year ago and now it’s one of his favorites. Especially for duels. Nothing’s more satisfying than immobilizing a duelist and wrestling him to the ground to solidify their defeat. Makes Keith feel powerful standing tall over his adversary.

“Well, maybe I’ll ask about it after class sometime,” Lance sighs. “Seems like it’d be really useful.”

The trio continues to talk about the classes. Ones they’re looking forward to most.

Pidge is already pleased as punch with Transfiguration. Her admiration for McGonagall knows no bounds. Hunk is looking forward to potions. He heard there’s a new teacher this year. Young and beautiful. Not only that but she has a cookbook out too. Pidge is excited about potions as well since she just finished a book on elixirs.

“What about you Lance?” Hunk asks.

“Charms of course,” Lance grins. “I only hope there will be _someone_ who can keep up with me. It's exhausting being in first place all the time.”

Keith rolls his eyes. He’s never met someone so full of himself.

“How much time before class?” Lance asks and Pidge reveals that he has twenty minutes. “Great, that’s enough time to scribble out a few words. I’m heading up to the owlery. I can use Pumpernickel, right?”

“Sure,” Pidge waves off.

“Writing to a special lady?” Hunk winks.

“Only the most special,” Lance chuckles and waves. “Meet you in class.”

Lance runs right by Keith and doesn’t even take notice. A couple of students dodge out of his way but he hardly seems to care. Whoever he wants to write to must not put him in chipper spirits because when he turns the corner, all Keith sees on Lance’s face is a sad frown.

*****

Keith takes a seat towards the back of Flitwick's class. Getting there early nets him a spot up high on the third row where he can see the whole room. Then others file in slowly and take their seats.

Lance’s friends look around for a place for the three of them to sit together since the Charms teacher doesn’t seem to have a preference for assigned seats. The spot they save for Lance is on the second row--right in front of Keith.

Ugh...maybe he should have waited until Lance showed up to pick his seat.

He can tell Lance is having similar reservations about being late as he shows up to find the only seat in the room is in front of the guy he fought just yesterday. His eyes fall on the chair and the person behind it with a slight frown. Keith mirrors his look, just as displeased at the situation.

“Come now, you’re the last one,” Professor Flitwick gestures to the empty seat. “Right there in front of Mr. Kogane. Come now, we haven’t got all day.”

Lance straightens up and sweeps his way down the row before dropping into the chair. Keith almost expected him to turn and shoot him a look. A prideful, haughty smirk at his victory in their brawl. But he doesn’t turn at all, just scoots his chair in and faces the professor.

Probably the smartest move, Keith thinks.

Roll call is done first and Flitwick commits all the new faces to memory. Sings a quick little song to get them all down and when he’s convinced he’s got them all he moves on. He reveals a table with a number of trinkets of varying sizes and weights.

A quill. A small set of silver scales. A textbook. A lit lantern. And lastly a small marble statue of an eagle. All the items are arranged by weight from left to right and the students take them in before looking back to their professor. The little man chuckles then addresses them.

“You must be stagnating in your classes,” he says and the students nod. “We’ll play a little game. Each student will come up and do a little levitating charm.”

Keith tenses at this. He’s never been good at these practical spells. Offensive spells and hexes are where he lives. Want something blown up? Keith’s the guy to do it. This sort of thing isn’t his forte.

“The student who lifts the heaviest object here and the student who lifts one for the longest time--” Flitwick gestures again to the table and it’s items, “--will earn their house a total of ten points each. Sound like fun?”

Everyone cheers with Lance being one of the loudest. Keith sinks into his seat with a grumble. Flitwick asks for volunteers to start and Keith’s shocked that Lance doesn’t go first. Instead, the lanky Slytherin leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, with a big grin across his face.

“I’ll go last,” he smirks. “Don’t want to discourage you all from trying.”

If Keith rolls his eyes any harder they’ll pop right out of his head.

Volunteers go first. Most start with the quill and if they find they’re having an easy time of it they move to something a little heavier. Pidge levitates the textbook for a minute before it drops and she catches it. Hunk manages to keep the feather up for a short while, even gets it to touch the ceiling.

Once volunteers run dry Flitwick starts calling on others. Keith goes up begrudgingly and draws his wand. Best to get it over with quickly.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Keith mumbles and flicks his wand at the silver scales. No response.

“A little louder Mr. Kogane,” Flitwick suggests. “Enunciate!”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” he says a little louder and swishes rigidly.

This time it jerks up a little. Barely an inch above the table. He manages to lift it two inches higher for another thirty seconds before it clatters back to the table. With an annoyed huff he sits it upright before turning to go back to his seat. Lance catches his eye with a cavalier smirk.

Clearly, he’s enjoying this too much.

“The only one left is you Mr. McClain,” Flitwick gestures.

“Alright,” Lance says and approaches the front of the class cracking his knuckles. He pulls his wand and spins it a little in his fingers. “Heaviest item or the longest time right?”

“Correct,” he nods.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” he incants and fluidly swishes his wand.

At first, Keith doesn’t think anything is happening. Maybe Lance isn’t so hot as he claims. But then he sees Pidge shake her head with a grin and Hunk copies her.

“What a show-off,” she chuckles.

Keith looks again and sees none of the objects on the table has levitated. But something _is_ different. It’s not until he hears everyone gasp that he sees it. Lance hasn’t levitated the items. He’s levitated the whole damn table one--no-- _two_ feet off the ground.

“How long do I need to hold it to break the longest record?” Lance asks casually, a hand on his hip as his wand swirls to keep it up.

“Four minutes, Mr. McClain.”

“Cool,” Lance shrugs. “I can manage that.”

And he does, without losing concentration even once. He even manages to lift it an additional two feet, keeping it level the whole time. Not a single item loses its place or tips over. Once the time runs out he slowly places it back onto the floor. Flitwick and a dozen students give him a round of applause as he bows.

“Well done Mr. McClain. You have a knack for Charms it seems,” Flitwick says with glee. “Twenty points to Slytherin. Well done boy.”

The other Slytherins in the room give him a hearty cheer. So do his friends. He shoots Keith a smug look before returning to his seat. Brags that for light objects, he doesn’t even need to incant. At all. That’s just how good he is.

Boastful prick.

“Now let’s see we still have a good twenty-five minutes of class left,” Flitwick chuckles. “How about another game or two?”

The following games are just as pointless as the others in Keith’s opinion. The class does the _herbivicus_ spell on a dozen potted plants to make them bloom. Keith and a handful of others can’t manage it. Lance picks up their slack with a simple sweeping gesture to make them flower before their eyes. Another five points for Slytherin.

And the hits just keep on coming.

Lance stuns them all yet again with some simple cleaning charms. He hits the broom in the corner with it and it gets to work about the room. When finished he sends it back to the corner with a flick of his wand. Another five points for Slytherin.

The last five minutes of class is for questions. Lance and a few others approach the teacher and talk a length about some of their favorite spells.

Keith wishes he were better at Charms so he wouldn’t feel like such a fool but luckily the other Gryffindors in his row are just as bad. None of them could lift the items on the table for more than a minute. They’re already talking amongst themselves about asking an older student to tutor them.

It’s only the first day and already they’re worried about falling behind.

“One of the third or fourth-years could help,” one suggests. “If they weren’t busy with extra classes.”

“In secondary school, we always just asked the best kid in class to give us some tips but…”

“Yeah, it’s that Slytherin guy,” the first one grimaces.

“Exactly,” they groan and look at Lance as he triumphantly laughs. “I’d rather eat slugs.”

“Probably just laugh in your face if you asked anyway,” Keith huffs. He grabs his stuff and makes his way to the door.

It’s about time to leave anyway. He’s ready for Shiro’s class and more than tired of Lance’s arrogant grin. Keith smirks and heads down the hall with a few of his classmates in tow. Lance won’t be laughing in their next class, Keith’ll make sure of that.

*****

“I’m professor Takashi Shirogane and I’ll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” he starts. “As there’s still a curse on this post, I’ll only be here for your freshman year. That being said, I look forward to teaching you all.”

To start off the professor has them list out any spells they know how to use without difficulty that they would use in an offensive capacity. Lance furrows his brows and looks down at the sheet.

Spells used for Beasts vs Spells used for Wizards

Admittedly he doesn’t know much in the way of offensive spells. And even less that are specifically for beasts or wizards. Pidge and Hunk look to one another contemplatively before writing down a few. Keith is two desks to his right and furiously scribbling away. His list is nearly twelve spells long already and he’s adding more.

Lance writes down a few here and there. A list totaling out to about six. It seems pretty small but he sees there are plenty of others in much the same boat. They turn them in and with a flick of his wand Shiro cycles through them as he leans against his desk. His eyes scan quickly through the levitated pages as he holds his chin contemplatively.

“Hmm,” he hums. “I see...Everyone, follow me into the adjoining room.”

They all jump up from their seats and trail quickly after the professor. He pushes open a door to an empty room. Well, a fairly empty room. There are a couple of dueling dummies complete with fake wands in their hands. Once everyone rifles in Shiro flicks his wand and it closes the door behind them.

“Most of you wrote down _Expelliarmus_ ,” he reveals. “Good. It’s a disarming charm. Excellent for fighting other wizards in duels, provided you’re quick on your feet.”

He demonstrates it without an incantation and the wand flies from the dummy’s hand. A number of the class claps in approval.

“Easy enough, though you likely still need the words,” he chuckles. He swishes and the wand places itself back in the dummy’s hold. “Some of you listed others that you’re more comfortable with. Line up and demonstrate those simpler ones. I’d like to get an idea of each of your techniques before the semester gets into full swing.”

The students line up but Lance takes a place near the end of the line. He wants to see what everyone else is capable of to gauge his own skills. Plus, watching others cast helps him learn better technique.

“Aim specifically for the hand,” Shiro instructs. “ _Accuracy_ is just as important as _incantation_.”

The first couple of students cast _expelliarmus_ and one uses _stupefy_ , impressing Shiro a bit. The professor has a few of them cast a couple times in succession, offering pointers for the next try. Lance takes in the information, watching the wrist movements of the ones Shiro talks to.

He can do this. He’s never cast _stupefy_ before but...the movement seems easy. He’s confident enough to give it a try. That’s until Keith comes up to bat. Everyone expects one of the three spells that have been tried so far. _Expelliarmus. Flipendo. Stupefy._ But Keith’s stance looks firm as if bracing for impact.

“ _Confringo_!” Keith shouts and a massive fireball strikes the dummy, exploding it into burning splinters.

The room goes silent as ash and wooden embers float the ground. The remains of the dummy, what little there is, sizzles as the smell of singed wood fills the room. Everyone’s eyes are wide as they stare at Keith. That was easily a third-year spell. And it nearly obliterated the entire dummy.

Shiro facepalms with a sigh before removing his hand.

“I said _disarming_ spells,” Shiro enunciates.

“I did _dis-arm_ him,” Keith smirks.

He also said to aim but why bother with that when you can just blow the whole thing away?

Seeing that explosion nearly took Lance’s breath away. He’s still staring wide-eyed. Like holy shit! He could feel the heat from back there! And his ears are _still_ ringing! He can’t believe the power behind it.

If Keith had pulled his wand in their little scuffle, there’s no doubt in his mind that the Gryffindor would have _decimated_ him. _Obliterated._ Head to head in terms of sheer power...Keith is far better than him.

“Amazing,” Lance awes. “That was...so cool.”

He can’t stand the guy but damn...he sure respects his skills.

“Stand over there, I’ll talk with you later,” Shiro points with a disappointed sigh and repairs the dummy with a spell. “You’re up, Mr. McClain,” he announces waking him from his staring.

“I uh,” Lance stumbles. “I can do _expelliarmus_ alright. But could I give _stupefy_ a try? I’ve never done it before.”

Keith snorts on the other side of the room and covers his mouth to hide his chuckling. Lance shoots him a glare but it does little to make him stop. He does silence himself though when Shiro gives him another warning look. The professor then turns to Lance with a supportive smile.

“Show me the first and then we’ll see how your _stupefy_ turns out,” Shiro nods.

Lance does the _expelliarmus_ easily enough though it’s not as powerful as the others. The disarmed wand doesn’t go particularly far. Maybe a yard away. The only one who did worse in that aspect so far was Hunk.

Shiro tells him to be more forceful with his gesture and it’ll go further next time. Now, for the _stupefy_. He practices the swish a bit before following through.

“ _Stupefy_!” Lance says and shockwave echoes out from his desired point.

Again, it isn’t very powerful but not from lack of skill. Shiro tells him his wand work is excellent for someone who’s never cast it before. Keith huffs at that comment and rolls his eyes.

“Well done for a first try,” Shiro compliments. “May I see your wand, Mr. McClain?”

Lance hands it to him and Shiro turns it over in his hands.

“Rowan wood,” Shiro hums. “Have you tried defensive charms before?”

“No,” Lance admits as the wand is handed back to him.

“They might be better suited to the temperament of your wand,” he tells him. “Better than offense anyway. Check the library at some point for beginners shielding charms.”

Shielding charms huh? Lance grins and nods before moving aside for the next student. Everyone gets a chance to try multiple times and all the while the professor takes notes on their particular styles. He explains that knowing their weaknesses can lead to better casting.

Weaknesses...Lance looks down at his wand. Offensive spells, ones with extreme force behind them are where he’s weakest. He just doesn’t have the disposition for it, much like Hunk. Hurting or breaking things isn’t his forte. He eyes Keith who’s leaning against a wall while other Gryffindors gather around him to talk about his _confringo_ spell.

What is Keith’s weakness? If Flitwick’s class is any indication...then anything with a delicate touch. Lance smirks. No surprise there.

At the end of class, Shiro passes out a syllabus. Tells them to read it sometime in the next couple days. They’ll have a small quiz on it.

The students make their way out of class to their last one of the day but not with any particular hurry. Everyone is talking about how glad they are they got to use their wands, not once but twice today. Most comment about each other’s technique but the biggest topic of conversation is Keith’s firebomb. It’s earning him all the praise the entire way to their Potions class.

“How’d you learn that?”

“Did you use that at the dueling competition?”

“Can you teach me?”

Lance subtly listens in on the conversations while pretending to look for something in his satchel. Taught it to himself, last year. So, no, he didn’t use it in the competition. And he’s not currently interested in teaching anyone else how to do it.

Lance guesses he wants to keep that information to himself. Gryffindor gloryhound.

“It’s not that hard,” Keith shrugs but can’t keep the smirk from his face. “Anyone with _skill_ can do it.”

The way Keith says it over his shoulder feels like a direct jab at Lance but he’ll never know as he turns the corner into the classroom before Lance can look up from his bag. With a huff he pulls his Potions book from his satchel and follows them in. He’s barely in there for more than a second before he’s greeted by a gorgeous lady.

“Welcome to Potions 101 freshman,” she says with a soft smile. “I’m Professor Honerva. Please, sit where your name is written on a placeholder.”

Lance’s jaw drops as do a few other students. Dark flawless skin. Elegant posture and adorned in black and red robes. Long silver hair pulled into a sophisticated bun. Markings on her cheeks in the shape of alchemical symbols. She can’t possibly be the potions master, she’s so young!

He thought he’d have trouble paying attention in potions...now he’s not sure the class won’t be spent daydreaming. Lance and the others hurry to find their seats. To impress their gorgeous teacher with their eagerness.

“I admire students with enthusiasm,” she chuckles.

Lance swears he hears a dozen hearts pop in the room, including his own. At least five of those enamored souls blush and hurry to get their notebooks ready. Lance finds his seat and drops right in, looking around to see who his neighbors are. Looks like he’s next to a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor. She’s arranged them in a pattern via houses. No sitting next to housemates.

She’s devised a test for them. Not for a grade, of course, but to determine where they’re all at in their studies.

“In front of each of you is a cauldron, directions for a randomly chosen concoction, and a number of potion components,” she explains and gestures to them. “But there are too many ingredients. Some are also missing. And none of them are labeled. Identify the incorrect ones and find which of your classmates has what you need. Create the potion from your directions. First to complete will allocate ten points for their house. Begin.”

Ah, crap...Lance knows he’s going to lose this one.

He’s never been good at potions. In fact, it’s his worst subject. In every aspect. Identifying and measuring and doing the exact directions at the exact time--it’s all so much work. How big is a _snip_ of boomslang skin? How many beetle legs are in a teaspoon? What the hell is nargledust even used for?

Better get started. The directions are for...a pepperup potion. Seems easy enough. It only has three ingredients. There are four on his desk so by process of elimination...two of these are the right ingredients and someone else has his third.

“Okay,” he says, biting his lip. “Identify.”

That looks like a root of some sort and the list says Mandrake root. Could be right. Bicorn Horn? That the hell does that even look like? Two of the bottle have shavings of some sort in them and the last is filled with a yellow liquid. Oh, lemon infused water is the last ingredient listed. He pops the cork on one and gives it a smell. Lemons. Cool.

So he’s got the lemon water. And the root. So...someone has his horn bits. He eyes the room. Keith’s items all look like powders of some sort. Pidge’s are pieces of varying bugs and she’s already trading an item with someone. Damn it, Hunk’s starting on his. And now Keith’s starting too!

He may not get his done first but hell if he’s going to lose to him again. After their last class, he needs to do something amazing to show Keith he’s better. That he does have skills. The boy next to him has a few items he’s scanning. He looks over at Lance’s items and points.

“Trade you for your dried nettle root,” he says.

Crap. So the root is the wrong ingredient? He hands it over and takes the kid’s little vial of something that looks vaguely like reptile scales. That means one of the shavings is horn of a bicorn. But which one?

“Oooo, you’ve got mudlizard claw shavings,” says a girl behind him. “Want this weird plant? I’m not sure what it is.”

Looks like another root. There’s a chance it’s what he needs. She points to the vial she wants and he trades her for it. Now that he’s pretty sure he’s got the right stuff he starts following the directions.

Pour this. Crush that. Powder those. What’s the difference between crushing and grinding and powdering? Will it affect the potion? Why does it matter if he stirs clockwise versus counterclockwise? He’s not sure and despite his uncertainty, he dumps them in any way and begins heating up the cauldron. Hopefully, those were the right amounts. God, he wishes he was sitting next to his friends...they’d help him out.

“Oh dear,” Honerva says, sniffing the air. “Someone is about...five degrees off on their potion.”

Five degrees off? Hotter or colder? Does she mean him? Well, she isn’t looking his way. Maybe his is fine. Stir for another ten minutes then cast the counter curse for _mucus ad nauseum_. He’s about to cast it when it happens.

The contents begin to bubble vigorously making him worry. Lance stands at the last moment just as it spontaneously bursts, blowing up in his face and that of his surrounding students. Luckily jumping to his feet spares the girl behind him from getting hit. The others next to him protect their faces in time but sadly Lance is doused in hot failed potion.

Fortunately, he’s wearing lots of layers so the only thing he burns are the hands he brought up to protect his face.

“Oh my, are you alright Mr. McClain?” Honerva asks as she uses her wand to clean up the mess and pull liquids from his robes. Much of it is levitated back into the cauldron for disposal later.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry,” he apologizes looking down.

“You must be more careful with your temperature,” she instructs and leans over his pot to give it a sniff. “Ah, and you’re off by one ingredient. Mr. Kogane had your powdered mandrake root.”

But his list didn’t say powdered! It said...looking again he realizes with shame it does say powdered. He must have rushed through the list and in his hurry misread it. He turns beet red with embarrassment.

“Fret not,” she says. “Luckily no one was seriously injured. Next time please remember to wear your protective gloves.”

“I’m finished Professor,” says Hunk from across the room.

“Excellent. And what divine providence,” she says with a smile. “Mr. McClain will benefit from your success. A healing salve for burns. Well done. Ten points to Ravenclaw.”

Lance takes his seat with a dejected sigh. So much for proving himself. He uses Hunk’s salve to heal his burns and resigns himself to sitting quietly for the rest of class. Only six out of twenty-five managed to correctly complete their potions but no one failed as spectacularly as he did.

What a way to set himself apart from the rest.

*****

Keith’s not sure what to do with himself after Potions. It’s free time until dinner. Then more free time until lights out. He’d go to the Quidditch field if the teams were meeting up but since it’s the first week, sports are holding off until new students get settled. Even if he went out there, there’d be no one to play against.

For the first half an hour he wanders about. Takes a seat in the courtyard and looks through is agenda. No homework really assigned other than to read syllabi. Could go back to the Gryffindor common room to study but his housemates are so noisy. They always want to talk. It’s the only trait he doesn’t seem to have in common with his classmates.

Didn’t he see a library at one point? On the tour? That’s gotta be quiet enough. Keith eyes his cat who’s sitting all proper next to him and watching the passing students.

“Library. Know where it is?” he asks her.

At first, she appears to be ignoring him. Slowly her eyes slide over to his and in one smooth motion she slips off the stones and starts walking out of the courtyard. It doesn’t click that she’s showing him the way until she stops and looks leisurely back at him. He gathers up his things and trails after her.

They wind through a few hallways and up a set of stairs for a while. It starts to look like a wild goose chase until finally Sumi stops and sits outside a door. Library. Keith looks down and sees she’s settled into cleaning her feet nonchalantly.

“Coming?” he asks and she looks at the wall as if watching a spider climbing up. A sign comes into view. No pets. “Fine. Later then.”

It’s not exactly silent but most conversations going on are between those sitting next to each other. So it’s quiet enough for Keith. He ambles down some of the aisles, fingers dragging along the spines of ancient tomes as he scans their titles. Nothing of interest to him. Best to find a table somewhere and get on the syllabi.

He’s about to exit the row when he sees a familiar face and hastily he backs into the aisle. What’s Lance doing here? From what Keith’s seen, he’s not exactly a bookworm. Did he follow Keith? To finish their fight? Doubtful but...he peeks out to get a little look at what Lance is up to.

Lance's brows furrow tight as he holds a book close to his face. Potions for beginners. Probably brushing up because of that fiasco earlier. He’s scribbling something down in a notebook but then grumbles as he erases it. This happens a couple of times Keith notes.

With a groan, Lance closes the book and plants his face right down on top of it with a thump. A little cooing noise comes out of his robes and Lance immediately sits up and looks around nervously. Keith hides back for a moment and when he looks again he sees Lance giving some attention to his parrot cuddled up in an inside pocket.

“Shh...Ciela...if you’re gonna stay its quiet time,” he whispers.

“Quiet time,” she whispers back.

“Yes, here,” he pats and hands her something to chew on.

What a rule breaker, Keith thinks. But it’s not a big rule. Harmless. And if Sumi wasn’t a big jerk he’d sneak her in too.

Keith continues to watch as Lance gives his bird a smile and pet before returning to a different book. Dueling tactics from the Middle Ages. He looks far more interested in this one, a determined smirk on his face. Before he can even get a page in Lance is interrupted by the voices of his approaching friends.

“Sorry we’re late,” Pidge sighs. “ _Someone_ had to stop and get snacks.”

“It’s cool,” Lance smiles and pulls some papers from his bag. “The notes you wanted.”

Keith’s eyes widen with interest. Charms notes. Lance actually takes notes?

“Sorry if they’re hard to understand,” Lance apologizes. “I uh...don’t usually write that stuff down. Some of it’s hard to describe. It’s easier to just show...but you Ravenclaws. You like your directions, right?”

“Nice!” Hunk beams and the two of them look it over.

“Your handwriting is atrocious Lance,” Pidge smirks but laughs. “But mine’s worse. Thanks.”

“Is this the book you told me about?” Lance asks and shakes the potions book.

“Yes, okay. Read this page aaaand...this one...this paragraph here about gauging temperature better,” Hunk explains. “Shouldn’t blow up next time.”

“Okay,” Lance nods with a wide grin. He quickly jots down the page numbers while chuckling. “I’ll show those dumb Gryffindors for laughing at me.”

“But that’ll only help with the pepperup potion,” Hunk reminds him.

“And it’s not like we’ll do that exercise again,” Pidge shakes her head.

“Yeah, but I asked Professor Honerva if I could try a do-over,” Lance explains. “She said if I succeed, without any errors, she’d throw two points my way.”

“It’s just two points, Lance,” Pidge huffs. “Hardly worth the effort.”

“Two points are the difference between winning and losing,” Lance says firmly as he writes down the information. He pauses and mumbles under his breath. “And I’m not about to give up a chance to win.”

Keith feels himself smirk at that. Boy, a Slytherin if he ever saw one. Ready to pounce at the opportune moment. If nothing else, Lance has...tenacity. A trait they share. But even so, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be friends with this guy. He almost choked him out in the hallway!

There’s some kind of laughter emanating from nearby which stops his staring. It sounds small and quiet and odd in a way. Keith looks down and sees a giggling parrot hiding behind his boot, tucked into the fold of his draped cloak.

Lance’s bird. She must have snuck away when her owner wasn’t paying attention. So far he hasn’t noticed.

“Your owner’s not too bright,” Keith hums and kneels down. She steps up onto his offered finger and he raises her up to his face. “Ciela, right? You’re lucky I don’t care about rules. Or I’d turn you in.”

“Hello friend Keith,” she says softly.

“That’s...pretty good,” Keith muses. When did she learn his name? From the train? Smart bird.

“Treat!” she chirps.

Keith blinks dumbly for a moment before rifling through his pockets. Can’t let good behavior go unrewarded. Even if her owner is a putz. He finds some cookie crumbs and offers them. She accepts and when finished snacking she starts climbing up his arm.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he questions as she climbs onto his shoulder. “Get lost. Go back to your idiot.”

“What the--” Lance exclaims from the table. He’s finally realized she’s gone. He quietly but urgently whispers to his friends and the three of them look under the table discreetly.

“Where is she?”

“She likes hide and seek, right? Check some of the bookshelves,” Pidge suggests and Lance jumps from his seat to start looking.

Keith can’t just walk away with his bird but he’s heading this way. What’s he supposed to do? How does he explain having her on his shoulder? It’s not like he wants her there but he’s not about to throw her. He’s not heartless.

Before he can come to a decision Lance whirls around the bookshelf and they meet face to face.

“ _You_ ,” Lance states, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What are _you_ doing here?”

That attitude. Brings out the defensive anger in Keith.

“It’s a library. Getting a book,” Keith answers curtly and pulls a random one from the shelf. “What are _you_ doing here? I thought morons couldn’t read.”

Lance turns a little red at the insult. His fist even balls up. But instead of throwing a punch he averts his eyes with a huff and walks past Keith. He stalks down the aisle to search for his bird. Didn’t he see her sitting on--wait. Where did she go? She was just here...

After Lance is out of earshot and down another aisle Keith hears a giggle. From underneath the hair at his nape. A devious giggle that makes him chuckle a little too when he realizes Ciela’s hiding in his locks.

Keith smirks. “Smooth move.”

She only pokes her head out a little and giggles more. Keith’s never seen a bird look so downright pleased with herself before. Alright, enough pulling the wool over Lance’s eyes. Keith puts out a hand and she steps up. He kneels down and puts her on the floor.

“Alright, for fooling him you’re an honorary Gryffindor. Now, get back before he has a coronary,” Keith smirks and gives her another crumb. “Gryffindors rule, Slytherins drool.”

Ciela merely cocks her head before tiptoeing her way back to the desk. Keith hopes it’ll stick. He can just imagine her squawking that in the middle of the Slytherin common room. Boy, the look on Lance’s face would be priceless.

For now, Keith reshelves the book he took then leaves down the aisle. He walks around a bit to find a quiet table near a window where he can try to study. When he finds an empty one he takes a seat and glances over at Lance’s table before pulling out his syllabi. The commotion is over and Ciela is back in Lance’s shirt pocket all the while being scolded for running off.

Keith shakes his head with a roll of his eyes and looks down on his work, a smile gracing his face for his feathered friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. The Five of Wands (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr Artist Kymmo has created an AMAZING piece of art inspired by this chapter! Check out the link in the End Notes!**

_[It] indicates that you are in the midst of conflict, tension and competition and it is impacting your ability to move forward with your goals. Sometimes, [it] indicates a personal struggle and conflict, either about external or internal issues that are causing a lot of tension and confusion for you.  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Week one is probably the hardest week according to many of Lance’s teachers. Learning to adjust to a college type classroom is different from secondary school. Most of his professors hardly even take note if a student comes in a little late. The only ones who get on them about it are McGonagall and Shiro. The former even deducts points for tardiness.

That said, the teachers are lenient the first week. Allowing for mistakes and giving them pointers to avoid those same errors in the future. Which is great since none of them have any clue what they’re doing.

He’s noticed that some of his teachers are more inclined to use magic and encourage wand use in the classroom. Professors McGonagall, Honerva, and Flitwick often use their wands while teaching for demonstration purposes. Shirogane uses his fairly often too. But Professor Zarkon and Longbottom hardly use theirs at all unless necessary.

Lance has yet to see the astronomy professor Sven draw his wand even once. And being around all the people he’s been around his entire life, Lance has a speculation as to why. It’s hard enough to teach a bunch of headstrong student witches and wizards--it’s a whole nother thing if you yourself can’t use magic. So Lance says nothing, not wanting to make his job even harder.

The thing Lance likes best about the college setting, as opposed to secondary school, is that they’re encouraged to rely on each other. Ask each other questions instead of the teacher every time. Take pointers from their neighbors when it comes to incantations. Even share study notes.

In Lance’s house, Lotor takes the most detailed History of Magic notes he’s ever seen. Another student does a simple duplication spell to give all their housemates their own copies.  It’s his best subject after all, that and Astronomy. It’s not sneaky, Lance reminds himself. It’s being resourceful.

“This isn’t charity,” Lotor reminds them all with a playful smirk. “I fully expect compensation in the form of earning our house points.”

Makes sense to Lance. The best way to ensure they win the House Cup is to improve everyone’s chances of success. He never knew Slytherins to have such a sense of camaraderie with each other. It’s kind of inspiring.

If Lance thought his Charms notes would be of any help he’d donate them to the group but honestly...most of his scribbles are illegible. And even if they weren’t, his descriptions are hard to follow. He’d do better tutoring one on one but then he’s not sure he’d have the time. Or if he’d be good at it. Or if anyone would want him to.

The potions makeup went well for him. No mistakes and snatching two points because of it.

Most of the week though, he sticks to what he knows. Charms. Every charms class has given him an opportunity to earn a few points for his house. Makes up for the times he screws up in other classes. All in all, he comes out on top with positive points instead of negative ones so it’s not all bad.

He’s been ignoring Keith fairly successfully except for in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Every time there’s a demonstration of some kind of offensive spell, Keith’s volunteering before anyone else can stand. And while he is good, Lance wishes he’d take a break and let someone else answer for a change. Keith makes it look like he knows better than all of them and Lance wishes some know-it-all Ravenclaw would take him down a few pegs.

Wishes do come true apparently and Friday is when it happens.

It’s the middle of class and everyone is copying down the notes Professor Shirogane has on the chalkboard. His charmed chalk taps away, adding more and more words when it stops mid-sentence and sets on its rest.

“Take a break everyone. Stand up, stretch,” Shiro encourages. “I know writing gets tiresome.”

“Sure does,” complains a Hufflepuff who cracks her knuckles.

“Can we go outside? It’s so stuffy in here,” a Ravenclaw poses.

“Hmm, outside,” Shiro hums thoughtfully. “Not if it isn’t class related. How about this? Finish this page and we’ll have a couple of mock duels outdoors.”

Everyone perks up, the most excited of which is Keith. Mock duels instead of writing? They all agree with a cheer and write as rapidly as their fingers will allow. Once finished they all line up in a hurry to follow Shiro outside.

They find a spot near a copse of trees with plenty of grass and soft moss to sit on. Before any of them take a seat Shiro asks the class if any of them have experience with mock battles. Even if they’ve just watched a few. Half the class raises their hands at that. Most of the muggle-borns just shake their heads and shrug.

“That’s fine,” Shiro nods. “I’ll explain some of the basic rules and procedures to the rest of you.”

Only two combatants at a time. They face each other, bow respectively, about-face, and walk ten paces. Then they turn around on the ref’s call and start the duel. Using any spells in their repertoire to win.

The first to be rendered unconscious or otherwise incapable of fighting loses the duel. The only means of battle are magical. It's considered bad form to allow a duel to degrade into a physical brawl. When Shiro makes that comment his eyes flick to Keith before returning to the class.

“Most duels aren’t to the death unless in times of war,” Shiro informs them. “And I’d rather none of you have to make a trip to the nurse’s office. So...let's stick to disarming and otherwise _harmless_ spells.”

Lance sees Keith roll his eyes at the emphasis that is clearly pointed at him. He’s disappointed that this isn’t going to be nearly as fun as he expected. Keith was clearly hoping he’d get to go all out on his classmates. To test those ‘skills’ he keeps bragging about.

“Who’s interested in going first?” Shiro asks and Keith’s hand goes up immediately. “Why am I not surprised?”

A few others express an interest in trying too despite the fiery display Keith showed on the first day. The ones who aren’t up for it take a seat on the grass, well out of harm's way in case _someone_ tries to blow them all to kingdom come. Lance finds a tree in the shade to lean against. Close enough to the action to observe but far enough that he won’t have to worry about backfire.

“If your classmate cannot fight or forfeits, they lose. If someone takes your wand you lose,” Shiro reminds them.

The first duel lasts no more than thirty seconds. The minute they turn Keith throws an _expelliarmus_ that strikes the other student’s arm hard. He drops his wand with a cry and as he’s about to scramble for it Keith casts another spell. A curse.

The student’s legs lock together. Keeps him from moving quickly to retrieve his wand. That’s when Keith casts yet another spell. Makes Lance’s eyes go wide as he recognizes it as the one Shiro used on him. The lasso like spell.  So Keith knows that one too?

It circles tight around the student’s body, pinning his arms. With one rough pull, Keith wrangles him to the ground with a crash. It’s not graceful or dignified but the student is down in the grass without his wand and at the mercy of the other duelist.

“I forfeit,” the student grumbles. “Jeez thought I’d last longer than that.”

The next one is just as quick. The Hufflepuff is able to deflect the first _expelliarmus_ but Keith hits her with a full body petrifying curse. It drops her and with a flick of his wand he pulls hers from her hand and into his.

“The combatant is unable to continue,” Shiro announces. “Keith wins the bout.”

Keith smirks proudly as the other Gryffindors cheer him on. It doesn’t look like anyone is going to be able to beat him. He’s just too fast and his spells hit so hard. Deflecting them is difficult. But there is something Lance has noticed. A few things actually. He waits until after a few more matches before it’s really confirmed for him, bringing a smirk to his face.

So that’s how it is.

*****

Keith wastes another student who’s unable to best him. He had no idea today was going to be this fun. When he looks around at the rest of the class he’s seeing a mix of respect, awe, and fear.

They know he’s too good for them to handle. Too advanced. Maybe he should be put in a different class since none of these plebs can match him.

He eyes Lance leaning on a tree, twirling a little branch in his hand. No awe on his face. No fear. In fact, he looks disinterested, almost...bored. Just the thought makes Keith’s temperature rise a little. He should be at least a little impressed. Or scared of him. Something.

“Anyone else want to give dueling Keith a try? We have time for one more,” Shiro comments as he checks his watch. “How about you Mr. McClain? No one from Slytherin’s given it a try.”

“‘Cause there’d be no sport in beating him, am I right?” Lance shrugs with a grin and the other Slytherins giggle in agreement. Since when did he get an entourage?

“You couldn’t beat me,” Keith claims with a snort.

“Sure I could. I’d only be able to do it once though,” Lance admits.

“Not even once,” Keith assures him. “You’d never land a hit on me.”

“That so?” Lance smirks as he draws his wand. He spins and twirls it a little, tossing it up and catching it in his right hand with ease. “Let’s go.”

No way Lance can beat him. No way he learned any of those defensive spells Shiro mentioned in less than a week. And even if he manages to get off a disarming charm before Keith...it’s weak. That first day in class proved it. He doubts the Slytherin would even knock the wand from his hand. Might just feel like a slap.

Then Lance would be open for Keith to strike. And hard. That makes Keith smirk proudly. He can’t wait to wrestle Lance to the ground with _carpe retractum_ and hear him admit who the better duelist is.

So they begin the last match of the day. Slytherin versus Gryffindor and it’s got the students chanting. Everyone loves a showdown. For Keith it feels like round two for their fight and this time they have an audience so he’s not about to let Lance touch him. He's going to win. 

“Remember,” Shiro says to Keith, his tone warning. “Harmless spells only. I see fire and you’re in trouble.”

Keith huffs but nods...begrudgingly.

Face to face. A bow between them and then wands brought to their nose for a type of salute. About face and the two of them take their ten steps. Keith’s fingers tighten on his wand, ready to cast when Shiro announces the match.

“Begin!”

Keith turns and shouts out his _expelliarmus_ in the direction of Lance’s raised hand. It strikes his elbow before a word comes out of Lance’s mouth. His hand releases it’s hold of the...branch? Lance grins and gestures from his left hand as he casts.

“ _Fumos duo_!”

Smoke erupts from Lance’s wand, filling the area with mist. It’s so fast and so thick, Keith can’t see anything two feet in front of his face within seconds. He haphazardly slings two more spells out at Lance, both of them disarming charms, but neither of them makes contact.

Great. Now he can’t use _carpe retractum._ That lasso spell only works on things that are within his line of sight.

For a second he hears Lance chuckle a little and it makes his cheeks hot with annoyance. Lance whispers something. A spell he doesn’t recognize and the grass beneath his feet suddenly freezes. The blades are covered in so much frost it crunches with every step he takes.

But that only helps him, Keith thinks. He’ll be able to hear Lance’s steps too.

Any time he thinks he hears Lance he shoots a spell in his direction. Miss. And every time he misses Lance chuckles again. It’s starting to piss him off more than a little.

“This is a duel! Fight me!” Keith growls. “Stop hiding you snake.”

“Hell no,” Lance says and Keith turns his head in that direction. But then the voice comes from the other way. An echoing charm? “Why would I do that? Your aim is shit and with the smoke it’s even worse. You’ll never hit me now.”

“You can’t hit me either then,” Keith points out and a knockback jinx wizzes right by his face.

“Keep opening your big mouth and I won’t be able to miss,” Lance snickers. “Oh, you stopped walking. Scared I’ll hear your steps?”

“I’m not scared!” Keith shouts and Lance’s knockback charm hits his shoulder hard and from the back landing him in the grass for a second.

Damn it. Lance baited him and he took it.

Keith clenches his mouth shut and stands, slowly searching the fog with his wand drawn. He could use _vermillious duo_. Green sparks. That would reveal wherever Lance is hiding but...he shakes his head. That would be like painting a bullseye on his face.

“You’re great at those offensive spells, ” Lance tells him. Almost a compliment but it feels backhanded. Now the voice is coming from the right. “But you can’t charm for shit Gryffindor. A simple _ventus_ charm would blow all the smoke away you know.”

Keith growls a little and Lance chuckles from another direction again.

“You really can’t do _ventus_? Jeez,” Lance snickers a little. “My eight-year-old nephew can do that.”

“Shut up,” Keith huffs and another knockback jinx almost hits him. He backs away, keeping his eyes peeled for any shadows. Ugh, he can’t see anything like this!

“Warmer. Warmer. Oh, cold. Colder,” Lance teases giving him hints but with voices echoing in each direction.

God, he hates this, not being able to see. Most of his spells rely on line of sight. That sneaky bastard did this on purpose. And since he can’t see he’s too worried to just sling spells everywhere. He’d hit Lance eventually but then, he might hit his classmates too.

And Shiro would not like that.

Alright. Keith takes a calming breath to focus.

Here's the plan, he tells himself. The minute Lance opens his mouth again, he’s going to fire a _stupefy_ at him. That has a little larger area of effect so it’s more likely to hit. If he’s unconscious the smoke will _probably_ lift and he’ll have enough time to take Lance’s wand from him.

He waits for Lance’s teasing tone but it doesn’t come. All’s quiet. Guess that means he’ll have to go to Lance.

His steps crunch lightly in the iced grass as he backs up. Where is--

“ _Expelliarmus_!” comes the shout, a mere foot from him. Keith’s wand goes flying a couple yards but with the thick smoke, it might as well be miles away.

“Damn it!” Keith exclaims and turns to the shadow behind him.

“Submit?” Lance grins triumphantly, his wand pointed at Keith’s face.

Keith huffs, his cheeks a red-hot inferno.

He...lost. To this Slytherin and a bunch of weak charms a child could cast.

Keith’s not even hurt. He was only hit once. Those knockback jinxes were a joke. Just used to corale him around until he got close enough to knock his wand out of his hand. Hell, Lance probably could have just reached out and taken it but then the victory wouldn’t be nearly as sweet.

“I forfeit,” Keith manages through gritted teeth. What a horrible feeling.

“Louder, so the professor can hear you,” Lance tells him and Keith’s glare intensifies. The lasers he’s trying to shoot out don’t bother Lance in the least. “Go on. And I’ll clear the field so you can get your wand back.”

“I forfeit,” he says again and it makes him feel just as sick to his stomach having to say it twice.

“Lance is the victor,” Shiro announces across the smokescreen.

“ _Ventus_ ,” Lance encants and swirls his wand. The field of smoke blows away, dissipating in seconds.

The other students clap and cheer. Keith stalks over and snatches his wand from the ground. When he looks back at Lance he sees the Slytherin taking a bow. Is he--he’s standing in the exact place he started in. Lance never moved the entire match! Every sound that he thought was Lance was just a well crafted echoing charm!

He doesn’t know which he feels more; annoyed or impressed. No, he does. Annoyed. He’s more irked at losing than anything else.

“Thank you, thank you,” Lance bows. “I only used my considerable _cunning_ to win.”

“Excellent work, Lance,” Shiro compliments. “Very clever. Ten points to Slytherin for unconventional spell use in a duel.”

“It’s no big deal,” Lance shrugs and shoots a look at Keith. “Anyone with _skill_ could do it.”

That’s what--how dare he--this was revenge for that off comment a near a week ago? Slytherins have a long memory it seems.

“I’m sure he could do it too if he got some tutoring,” Lance gestures a thumb over his shoulder at Keith again before turning to address him. “Normally I wouldn’t bother but...if you ask real nice I’ll teach you a few things.”

Keith would rather drink acromantula venom. Or swallow bowtruckle thorns. Or stick his hand in a Hippogriff’s mouth. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Lance doesn’t mean it anyway, he’s just trying to get under his skin. Slytherins only help their own.

The Gryffindor huffs and storms off towards his housemates. They whisper and comment amongst themselves. That sneaky underhanded Slytherin. Can’t believe Keith lost to that guy. Yeah, he probably cheated somehow. That sounds like something a Slytherin would do.

But he didn’t cheat and Keith knows it.

Lance won fair and square. And while he’s an insufferable braggart...he earned his victory by exploiting Keith’s weaknesses: his hasty nature, less than optimal aim, and lack of practical spells. It’s what a duelist is supposed to do though he could do with less rubbing his nose in it.

When he looks back over to Lance he sees him dishing out high fives to anyone who’ll give him one. There’s even a Hufflepuff complimenting his spellwork. Keith expected a boisterous laugh and more boasting about how much better than Keith he is but instead, Lance just blushes at the unexpected praise.

What an unguarded smile.

“Alright class, back inside,” says Shiro. “You have potions in about fifteen minutes. Get moving. And don’t forget to read pages 36 through 42.  Quiz on Monday.”

*****

Friday is the day they test on formulas they’ve been studying through the week.

Lance still can’t regulate temperature very well but at least this most recent potion doesn’t explode all over the place, just smells fucking _horrible_.  Everyone else groans as they pinch their noses in objection to the stench. Hunk even throws up in his cauldron, ruining his own potion. The only person in the room that doesn’t cover their nose is the Professor.

“I suppose the potion is correct,” Honerva comments as she looks inside. “It _will_ clear warts in a pinch.”

“And your sinuses no doubt,” a Ravenclaw student comments and others laugh.

“Sinuses? It’ll burn the lining off your throat and stomach,” a Gryffindor jokes. “I’ll pay someone two galleons to drink that poison. Five if you don’t toss it afterward.”

The classroom laughs at that. Lance looks shamefully into his cauldron.

So it smells revolting but Honerva says it would work. He’d drink it himself if he had any faith that it wouldn’t give him the worst shits imaginable. He doesn’t want to risk having to spend his weekend on a porcelain throne.

Man, and he was feeling so good after his duel with Keith.

That’s when Lotor stands from his desk and strides over to Lance’s cauldron. He scoops a beaker full of the vile liquid and eyes it. Looks like purple and green glue and just as thick. Even looks a little gristly.

With a smirk he tosses back the potion, swallowing down the contents while the other students look on with disgust. Hunk nearly throws up a second time.

“It tastes like...jasmine tea,” Lotor comments and gestures to the Gryffindor. “Pay up.”

“I’m not--”

“Ah, a Gryffindor that doesn’t keep his word,” Lotor sighs, his tone feigning disappointment. “How very surprising. Whatever would _Harry Potter_ say?”

It’s obvious to everyone in the room that he’s painted the Gryffindor into a corner. If he doesn’t pay he’s unprincipled by going back on the bet. If he does pay he’s giving his rival house his cash. He loses either way. And since Gryffindors prefer integrity to money he practically slams the coins into Lotor’s hand.

Lotor looks them over and flips one to Lance with a snarky grin.

“Next time he’ll think before he speaks,” Lotor comments and returns to his desk.

Wow. He’s so cool, Lance thinks. So mature. Can he ever be like that?

After class, Lance catches up to Lotor on his way to the courtyard.

“Thanks for that,” Lance tells him.

“Hmm? For drinking your potion?” Lotor asks and shakes his head with a laugh.  “There was no risk. I knew there would be no ill effects.”

“How’d you know it wouldn’t taste bad?” Lance wonders.

“It tasted absolutely vile,” Lotor reveals. “But I’m not one to pass up a chance to humiliate a Gryffindor _and_ make a little money while doing so. I’m an opportunist, not an altruist. Besides, I wasn’t about to stand there and let him get away with insulting a member of my house.”

“Really?” Lance smiles.

“Yes,” Lotor nods back.  “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have a date with a third year Hufflepuff.”

“Jeez, you have a girlfriend already?” Lance whines.

“No,” Lotor smirks and heads off. “Ta, Lance.”

That leaves Lance alone with loads of spare time. Quidditch tryouts don’t start until Monday. His friends are studying in the library by now and that’s the last thing he’s in the mood for.

So Lance takes a seat up high on one of the courtyard walls and pulls out a notebook. Flips a couple pages in and stares at the start of a letter with a frown. He never sent it that first day. The letter to his folks. Started it but...If he doesn’t send one today they’ll send his sister to check on him.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Hogwarts is so amazing. It’s just so big and I’m already getting lost all over the place. Sis always said the first week is spent just learning the layout. She’s right. The moving staircases are ridiculous._

_You asked what my house colors are so you can make a new quilt. I got sorted into--_

And that’s where he stopped. He wasn’t able to write it. Spent the rest of his time just staring at the paper and nearly missed the Charms lesson that day.

He’s slowly coming to terms with being Slytherin but...he wonders what they’ll think of him. His parents made it no secret that they weren’t a fan of Slytherin. Full of pureblood elites. The sorts that look down on Lance’s kind of family.

Lance picks up his pencil and continues writing.

_I got sorted into an awesome house. Our common room is the best. Has a great view of the Lake._

_My housemates are so smart. One of them has both his parents teaching here so he gets all the inside scoop on their tests. Nice right? Also, did you know that McGonagall is still teaching here? She’s like almost a hundred! Wild huh? I still haven’t asked if she’ll sign my comic book._

_Got into a little bit of a scuffle the first day but don’t worry. No one got hurt too bad. I did some killer charms work in class. Everyone was really impressed! I even won a mock duel today with the best student in our class. You should have seen his_ **_confringo_ ** _spell the other day! It was amazing! Wish I could do that._

_Anyway, gotta keep it short guys. I have a lot of work to do. I’ll send you another letter in a week. Quidditch starts up after the weekend and I can’t wait to try out for the house team._

_Always yours,_

_Lance_

He sits back to look it over with a sigh. It’s skirting the truth, he knows. Eventually, he’ll have to tell them but for now it’s not hurting anything to keep them in the dark. He’ll tell them once he has more to brag about. Like maybe after he makes the Quidditch team.

Yeah, he’ll tell them then.

*****

“Have you seen a black Kneazle cat?” Keith asks the fifth group of students that day.

Sumi disappears sometimes, which normally doesn’t worry him. Most of the time she comes back in a few days, often with a dead something to hide away in his covers. Some say that’s a sign of endearment but Keith knows otherwise. She revels in watching him clean up her messes.

Right now he needs her for her hair. He wants to make a Sleekeazy hair potion by the end of the day. His own stock is getting low and without it his hair’s a wild tangled mess.

“There is a black cat in the inner courtyard, but I doubt it’s yours,” a girl says.

“The courtyard?” Keith repeats and looks down the hall he’ll need to travel.

“It was sitting in someone’s lap. And Kneazles really only do that with their owners,” she reveals. “Or just people they really trust. They’re picky like that.”

Maybe she’s hanging with Shiro. She is _his_ cat after all.

He thanks her and takes off down the hall to check. The inner courtyard is fairly empty when he gets there. Only three people and they’re currently leaving. Most of the students are heading to the Great Hall for dinner by now.

No sign of--Keith blinks when he spots her. She’s up on a ledge, sleeping on top of another student. Not Shiro then. They must have decided to take a nap and she elected to take advantage of their warm unmoving body. Poor sod. Probably has her claws in him too.

Keith saunters over and cranes his neck trying to see the student’s face. They’re too high but he’s sure it’s a guy. Keith can just barely reach his sleeve and gives it a tug, hoping it will wake him up. That way he can help move the cat along with a gentle shove.

Instead, the student’s hand falls from his chest and drops its contents. Keith just manages to catch the object as it falls. A notebook.

Now, it’s not that he’s the nosy sort but he looks over the page hoping maybe there’s a name he can call up to wake the student. It’s a letter. To the student’s parents. He scans quickly to the bottom for a signature. It’s signed ‘Lance’ and Keith grimaces.

Of course, it is. As big as Hogwarts is there’s no way to escape from anyone here. This time he reads the entirety of the letter out of spite. Probably full of prideful garbage anyway.

He finds it’s surprisingly wholesome.

Keith sees that Lance doesn’t want to tell his parents what house he’s in. He’s not so proud of his sorting as he plays it. Toots his own horn a bit about Charms but it’s what he’s come to expect of him. Huh...he wrote about Keith. But it’s not rude at all. He could easily call the contents a compliment.

The best student in class. Amazing.

A loud meow above Keith startles him into dropping the notebook. Sumi looks down on him with her judging eyes as he picks it back up and dusts it off. Lance doesn’t stir with how much the cat steps and stretches on top of him. Still asleep. Good.

“Here,” Keith huffs handing it up to her. “Put it back.”

She takes it in her mouth and places it back on Lance’s chest. He then gestures her to jump down into his arms and for once she does so without a prolonged staring contest first. She still scrambles to get out of his hold afterward but follows him as he turns to leave. She gives him another long meow and licks her lips while looking back over at Lance.

Her message is clear to him. Lance is going to miss dinner.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Keith huffs and turns to go. She sits and gives him a displeased yowl. “Ugh, fine.”

He points his wand at Lance and whispers _steleus_. A small green ring floats out of his wand and lands on Lance. He suddenly wakes with a start as the sneezing hex takes effect. Sumi doesn’t look particularly happy with his choice but hey...it's better than sleeping through mealtime. And it only lasts like thirty seconds.

Keith’s taking off down the hall with his cat long before Lance finally stops sneezing.

*****

Dinner time. Lance lost a lot of the day thanks to his nap. If he hadn’t started sneezing he might have missed food altogether.

He grabs a plate and piles up a load before joining Pidge and Hunk. Pidge is shoveling food into her mouth as she reads through a book labeled ‘Arithmancy: A Cursebreaker’s Guide’. Third-year stuff. Hunk is dissecting his meal while writing notes in his dominant hand.

“You finally joined us,” Pidge comments as he sits.

“I was taking a nap in the courtyard,” Lance says.

“Of course you were,” Pidge smirks, unsurprised.

“Tell me, does this taste like they used roma tomatoes or campari tomatoes?” Hunk asks as he offers a spoonful of sauce.

Pidge waves it away from her face, stating she wouldn’t know the difference if they were sitting in front of her and in their natural form. Lance laughs at that and begins eating. Tastes great, regardless of tomato content.

“Oh, there’s that Allura girl,” Lance sighs when he spots her across the Hall.

Still so elegant. She’s got a plate of food and looks around for a spot to sit. Lance thinks to wave her over but Hunk’s already calling her name. They’ve been chatting a lot in Astronomy. Hunk points at a seat and she starts towards them with a smile.

Once she gets close her eyes fall on Lance and she hesitates. Not for long but Lance sees it. Apprehension. She takes a seat nervously across from him and starts in on her food. She won’t look directly at him. Like she’s--

Another person afraid of him.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he frowns as he readies his things.

“You didn’t finish your food,” Hunk points.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he claims and pushes the plate away before standing to leave.

Keith’s sitting at the table across the way and his eyes flit up in time to catch Lance marching his way out of the Great Hall. Looks upset but not in an angry way. Furrowed brow with hurt eyes. Keith stands to refill his plate and changes seats.

Doesn’t know why but he wants to sit closer to Lance’s friends and maybe overhear what set him off.

“You’re friends with him?” Allura asks after he’s gone. “I heard he started a fight the first day. He broke a student’s nose because they bumped into him. And he tried to choke another student to death. Aren’t you scared of him?”

“Lance? Please,” Pidge scoffs and laughs. “He’s...mostly harmless.”

“Besides,” Hunk shrugs. “I doubt that story is the whole truth.”

“It’s what all the Gryffindors are saying,” Allura tells them.

“I’ll bet it is,” Pidge rolls her eyes. “Because a Gryffindor _never_ stretches the truth.”

“I’ve never known Lance to start a fight unless someone insulted his family or his pride,” Hunk explains and eats a mouthful of food. He continues to talk once he swallows. “And sometimes not even then. He likes keeping his face pretty.”

His family or pride, huh?

From what he read in that letter, chances are Lance wasn’t feeling that great that first day when Keith and them walked up on him. That insult towards his family pushed Lance over the edge. And then Keith called him a coward. So both his family and his pride were insulted at a time when he was feeling alone and vulnerable and cornered by three Gryffindors.

Hardly a fair fight, now that Keith’s thinking about it.

“Then he’s...not a brute?” Allura wonders.

“A big ham, definitely,” Pidge gestures with her fork. “But a brute? Lance is easily the most sensitive guy I’ve ever met. He’ll forgive pretty much any slight against him provided there’s an apology. Otherwise...Lance has a long memory.”

Any slight? Keith remembers the look in Lance’s eyes as he was readying to fight Siegfried. That burning glare. And what was it Lance said?

_Take it back._

If Siegfried had done so--would the fight have immediately ended? If Keith apologized now for the fight...would Lance let bygones be bygones? It’s not that Keith wants to be friends but he’d settle for fewer glares and snarky comments in his general direction.

Could be worth it.

“I feel terrible,” Allura says and covers her mouth. “I let others color my perception of him and treated him so poorly. Will he accept _my_ apology?”

“Of course he will,” Hunk nods. “He’s a pushover for a pretty face. Oh hey, in Professor Sven’s class--”

Keith’s done listening in. He finishes the food on his plate and pushes it away. No reason to stick around and listen to them talk about Astronomy. He learned more about Lance than he needed. The big clock in the hall tells him it’s getting late anyway. Time to go back to his room for a little studying.

He starts heading off towards the Gryffindor dorms but that takes him by the courtyard. Just as he turns the corner he sees Lance head in. His curiosity gets the better of him and instead of just walking by he stops. Takes a look outside to find Lance dropping to the ground under a tree.

Lance casts a small _lumos_ spell and a little orb of light floats around him. A trilling coo resounds as his bird climbs it’s way out of his inner pocket and to his shoulder. She looks over, spots Keith and flaps her wings excitedly. Keith grimaces nervously and puts a finger in front of his lips with the hope she’ll take a hint.

Luckily she settles.

“Good bird,” he mouths silently.

Keith eyes them from behind a pillar and sees the Slytherin pull something from his pocket. A sheet of paper? No, smaller than that. A photograph maybe. Lance sighs and thumbs the edges. His reminiscing doesn’t last long as a gust of wind rips through the courtyard and tears the photo from his hands.

“No!” Lance shouts and quickly scrambles to his feet to chase after it.

It flies right for Keith and he easily captures it. Plucks it right out of the air with a quick snatch.

It _is_ a photograph. It’s of a family. A mother and father. Grandparents from both sides. Three boys and a girl in the center. All huddled together to fit in the shot and they almost don’t manage it.

Lance snatches it right out of his hand before he can garner any more from it.

“Mind your own business, _Gryffindor_ ,” Lance grumbles as he pockets the photo.

“Fine,” Keith huffs. “Next time I’ll just let it blow away.”

Lance opens his mouth to say something back but closes it with a contrite frown. Suppose he should say thank you, even if the guy is a jerk.

“Er...well. I mean...thanks. I guess,” Lance settles on and turns to go.

Keith thinks about apologizing, for earlier. Now’s the best time but the words won’t come out.

“Something's wrong with the charm on your photo,” Keith blurts out instead. “You should fix it.”

“What?” Lance asks as he turns, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and slightly confused.

“The people aren’t moving in it,” he explains. “If you can’t, Flitwick can.”

Lance’s face goes from confused to understanding. It then transforms into a closed mouth smile before bursting with raucous laughter. Keith just blinks with confusion of his own.

Is this guy...is he laughing at him? Normally that would make him seethe with rage but...the laughter seems different from before. It’s not malicious. Instead, it’s almost light-hearted.

“You moron,” Lance finally gasps as he catches his breath. “It’s not charmed. It’s a muggle picture. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“No,” Keith shakes his head with a frown.

“Well, they don’t move. Ever,” Lance laughs.

“Why keep one then? Seems boring,” Keith huffs.

“Because that’s the kind of camera my parents own,” he explains and snorts. “Like anyone would sell them a wizards camera, they’re squi--”

Lance cuts the sentence off in his throat, trying to swallow back the words but Keith heard it. His eyes widen in surprise. Squibs. Lance’s parents are squibs? Both of them?

Non-magic folk born to wizards. So rare.

Most squibs are told to live muggle lives. It’s far less cruel than letting them live in the magical world in which they can never really fit in. Even now, lots of wizards treat them poorly in general, especially the purebloods. Thought of as blood traitors. May as well be muggles. How many were killed during the Second Wizarding War?

So that’s why Lance was so insulted at Keith’s insinuation that he was just another fan of You-Know-Who’s. Why he looked so distraught after the sorting hat called out Slytherin. Must feel like a traitor to his own family. And Keith only made it worse by stirring the pot.

“A-Anyway,” Lance coughs to clear his throat. “Thanks...for catching it. It’s the only one I have with my whole family in it.”

“Don't mention it,” Keith shrugs.

There’s a long pause between them as neither immediately moves to leave. Its awkward as it’s the first time they’ve been alone to talk. Well, other than the duel and they weren’t exactly on friendly terms. Still feels like a standoff.

Someone has to say something first so Keith goes for it.

“I uh--”

“Sorry,” Lance frowns and pulls the picture from his pocket again. He looks down at it with a disappointed sigh. “About before. I...shouldn’t have fought you. My mom would have thrown her shoe at me if she’d seen that.”

“A...shoe?” Keith raises a brow perplexed. How weird. A shoe?

“McClains only fight to protect their family,” Lance says, and it sounds like something he’s been told his whole life. Like a mantra. “But I took it too far. Sorry.”

Keith huffs and averts his eyes. _He’s_ sorry? What’s he got to be sorry about? After all, Keith instigated that fight. Lance took it too far? It wouldn’t have happened at all if Keith hadn’t, for lack of a better metaphor, poked the snake.

“But hey, you called me a coward,” Lance shrugs. “Wouldn’t you throw down if someone called you that?”

Keith’s started fights for less than that before in secondary school. “Yeah,” he nods.

“So are we square? I don’t bother you, you don’t bother me,” Lance hints. “We get through this without any more bloodshed.”

All Lance ever does is glare at him. Icy ones that chill his spine. Or mistrustful ones that burn him up. But now...Keith’s never really seen his eyes like this before. Soft and less severe. He averts his eyes from Lance’s brilliant blue ones.

It’d be a hell of a lot better than getting dirty looks every day.

“Sure,” Keith shrugs. “We’re even.”

Lance extends his hand for a shake. Keith stares at it longer than is probably socially acceptable as he contemplates whether or not he wants to make any deals. Especially with this kid. With a Slytherin. Eventually, he rolls his eyes with a huff and shakes it.

Keith expected his hand to be cold and constricting, like a snake, but it’s warm and soft.

“This doesn’t make us friends,” Keith tells him, still not looking at him.

“God no,” Lance shakes his head with a laugh. “Could you imagine?”

“Good,” Keith tells him and releases his hand. “Later, Ciela.”

“You’ll say goodbye to my parrot but not me?” Lance asks, almost offended. “Rude goodbye Ciela.”

“Goodbye friend Keith. Gryffindor rules,” Ciela chirps and Lance looks on aghast.

Keith can’t contain his snort. The look on Lance’s face is even better than Keith could have hoped.

Eyes wide, mouth agape in disbelief. Lance can’t even get the words out and not in any language Keith can understand. Like he can’t decide if he should curse in English or Spanish. He’d look absolutely appalled in any language. Almost disgusted, horrified, and outraged all at the same time but not sure which emotion to feel first.

“The hell…?” Lance blinks with utter confusion. Keith continues to muffle his chuckling as he walks away. “Who the hell--how did--have you been talking to my bird?!”

“Nope,” Keith lies and continues on his way. “Why would I do _that_?”

“I take back that handshake!” Lance shouts, the disbelief at the situation cracking his voice. “My...You! You corrupted my bird! Ciela, cotorra mala. _Slytherins rule_! Repites!”

Ciela continues to repeat the Gryffindor line a couple more times while demanding a treat for her well-enunciated responses. Lance makes all kinds of dismayed noises as he tries to encourage her into a different answer but she only gives out devious giggles and flaps around the courtyard out of Lance’s reach as he pleads for her to say something else. Anything else besides that!

Keith turns a corner and loses the sound of them before long. Once he reaches the Gryffindor common room he takes a seat by the hearth and pulls out a book. His face stays serious until he hears an owl flap her wings on a perch behind him and he’s suddenly reminded again of Lance’s bird and his shocked reaction.

It’s the smallest of victories but it brings a triumphant smile to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> **  
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> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	5. The Magician (Upright)

_“[This] shows that you are doing a great job at pulling together all of the skills, resources and tools that are available to you in order to bring about an outcome that suits you. You are keeping a very pragmatic head about you and you are trying to remain as objective and ‘can-do’ as possible, even if you are worried on the inside.” ---Biddy Tarot_

 

There’s a bit of a hustle and bustle Monday morning. At the announcement board at the entrance to the Great Hall a number of students crowd around. A sign-up sheet for tryouts. For Quidditch. Lance pushes and shoves to get to it. The last thing he wants is for all the slots to fill up before he can get there.

He needn’t have worried. It looks like someone already signed him up and Lance recognizes that handwriting anywhere. He’ll have to remember to thank Hunk as soon as he sees him. The thoughtful Ravenclaw put down his name, preferred position, and house.

“Nice,” Lance grins. He scans over the other names though, since he’s already here.

A lot of people, most of them he doesn’t recognize by name but that’s pretty normal. It’s not like he’s met everyone in the Freshman class. It’s not even possible to know them all yet. Some of them are on different schedules and never cross over with his. Regardless, there are an awful lot of Gryffindor names.

_Keith Kogane, Seeker, Gryffindor_

Lance hums with consideration. Not what he expected.

He had Keith pegged for a Beater, someone who likes to cause trouble and hit things. Or a Chaser like Lance. Basking in the adulation of his peers by scoring all throughout the game. But then again...Keith’s aim is terrible. Maybe not Chaser then.

His reflexes are good though. Keith did catch that photo in mid-air with no trouble at all.  With just a flick of his wrist. Fast as lightning, like when he duels. And he is smaller. That translates to speed on the field. Maybe Seeker isn’t all that surprising when he steps back to really think about it.

Lance leaves the board so others can cram themselves in there to sign up. It’s time for breakfast but in his excitement he barely eats. Has half a hot croissant with melted honey butter before he’s standing and rushing to his first class with a grin.

The sooner the day gets over with, the better.

*****

Lance doesn’t stop smiling and tapping his feet the entire day. It only starts getting on Keith’s nerves in Charms when he’s seated right in front of him. Flitwick demonstrates an unlocking spell on a series of padlocks he has on the table then asks for a volunteer to give it a try. Keith prays that Lance will do it, just so he’ll stop making so much noise.

“Now the hand movement for this is delicate and smooth,” Flitwick explains. “A swooping backward ‘S’. It may take you all a few--Mr. McClain, you’re quite the Charmer--”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Lance smirks and winks at a nearby girl.

Flitwick laughs a little before continuing. “Yes, yes. You may not have too much trouble. Have you ever cast _Alohomora_ before?” he asks and Lance shakes his head no. “Then let's see how you do for a first try. Come, come.”

The insipid tapping finally stops as Lance goes to the front. He takes the padlock in hand and awaits more instruction. Flitwick reminds him to start from the top of the gesture and keep it in single smooth movement but slowing at the last second. That part pulls up the latch.

Everyone watches as Lance waves his wand over and encants. Sliding effortlessly and without error, the lock pops open. Keith’s not surprised. Lance seems to excel at those sweeping gestures with his wand as if it comes naturally without thinking. Lance looks a little surprised at the result though.

“Huh, usually takes me a few tries with new ones,” Lance admits as he turns the lock over in his hands.

“Well done, Mr. McClain,” Flitwick congratulates. “How about you help me pass out the rest of the locks so the others can practice?”

Lance nods and puts his lock down so he can grab the box full of padlocks. He stops by each desk and each student dips their hand into the box to grab a lock. When he comes to Keith’s desk he pauses and waits for Keith to take one. It takes him jostling the box to get his attention.

“You gonna take one or what?” Lance asks.

Keith expected more attitude from him. He’s not smiling at Keith but he’s not giving him a glare either. Indifferent, like he’s any other student. The Gryffindor reaches into the box, pulls an old lock out, and Lance moves on. No further words.

They spend the last ten minutes of class practicing the charm. Some have done it before, opening theirs without trouble. Others have never had cause to need such a spell.

Keith’s not having an easy time of it. Failure after failure. In his frustration, he pushes the lock away from himself and looks at the others.

How are their motions so fluid? He wonders why he can’t do it as easily as them but then remembers why. The spells he’s used to are all forceful gestures. Most of them rigid in design. The complete opposite of these spells. This knowledge hardly makes it easier though. Maybe watching Lance will give him some insight. 

He eyes the seat in front of him, expecting to see Lance smugly locking and unlocking his padlock with ease. He’s not but he _is_ tapping again. Instead of classwork, Lance scribbles away in an old ledger book with a great big grin on his face. Keith cranes his neck a little to see if he can get a better look. Looks like…

Quidditch plays. A whole book of them.

So that’s what’s got him in a good mood. Today is the day for tryouts after all. But that’s a lot of plays. Did Lance write them all himself?

Keith discreetly leans forward a little more to eye the page he’s working on. Finally, a nice reason to have a high vantage point. Looks like...a Chaser play with a Beater assist. Interesting. Is it an offense or a defensive play? If he can just get a little closer...

In his leaning, Keith’s lock falls off the desk. It clatters to the floor and to Keith it feels like the sound echoes tenfold throughout the classroom making his heart hiccup in panic. Quickly he shoves back into his seat, averting his eyes and covering the bottom half of his embarrassed face with his hand.

What if Lance caught him looking over his shoulder like that?

The aforementioned subject turns to look at the floor behind him, eyes falling on the lock. Then up to the desk it came from with a quizzical brow raised. Lance closes his book and retrieves it from the floor, then stands and extends the lock to Keith with a smirk.

“Shouldn’t throw it just cause you’re mad,” he says. “Won’t unlock that way.”

“I know that,” Keith huffs and snatches the lock back.

“I’m surprised you haven’t just...blown it up by now,” Lance snickers as he takes his seat again.

Keith’s considered it but that’s the last assumption he wants someone to make about him. Especially Lance. It took everything earlier to resist a nice _portaberto_ on it. Or _bombarda_. Nothing would make him happier than to obliterate the damn thing but now he won’t give Lance the satisfaction.

For the rest of the period he tries unlocking it the way he’s supposed to but to no avail. He keeps getting distracted by Lance, his tapping feet, and his Quidditch book. Keeps looking at the back of his head as the Slytherin focuses on what’s to come after all his classes.

*****

Last class is over! Lance can’t wait to get to the Quidditch pitch.

According to his potions teacher, all students who signed up must return to their dorms first for a uniform. It’s been placed in their rooms. Lance is bursting through his door within minutes of class ending and rushing to his bed in his excitement.

On it is a neatly folded Quidditch uniform but it looks a little off. There are no house colors on it. It’s plain and grey. Lance holds it up and scrutinizes it with pinched lips. How drab. Maybe it’s a practice uniform? Until they earn their spot and order the right ones?

Regardless, he throws off his clothes and pulls it on. The pants, the shirt, the short cloak. Fits great. He then adjusts the straps on his protective pads. The greaves and then the gauntlets. Once it’s all in place he looks himself over but pouts.

“Where’s a mirror when you need one?” he asks with a mumble.

“Use the common room lake window,” Lotor says from the doorway, making him jump with a squeak.

“How long have you been standing there?” Lance asks as he heartbeat recedes.

“Long enough for extortion material,” Lotor shrugs and nods his head at the bed. “You appear to have mail.”

“Mail--” Lance furrows his brow and looks. “--oh! Nice!”

He completely missed it though he’s not sure how. A huge box wrapped in paper and tied with string sits there next to his bed. Addressed to him from his parents. The care package they mentioned sending.

Should he open it now? Or wait until after practice?

Ciela flaps over to it and starts chewing on the paper wrapping. When Lance doesn’t help she starts making angry growling noises.

“Fine, fine,” Lance says and pushes her off the box with a gentle hand.

He tears it open as Lotor approaches to watch with crossed arm and curious eyes. It’s exactly what he expected it to be. Snacks, and filled to the brim. Chips, candy, and pastries from Varadero. Holy...is that a gallon jug of guarapo juice? Wait, four gallons?! Are his parents going to send him something like this every week?!

Good thing most of this stuff is cheap or he’d have to have words with his parents. For now, he smiles fondly at the contents.

“There’s a letter,” Lotor points out as Lance opens a bag of plantain chips and eats a few.

“It says, ‘We’ll send another in two weeks. Don’t forget to share with your friends’,” Lance translates through his chomping. “No, mom, I thought I’d eat it all myself. Christ. There’s enough to feed an army.”

Lance’s eyes light up. What an idea.

He stuffs a shoulder bag with a little bit of everything. A big bag of yucca chips. A handful of raspaduras. The open bag of plantain chips too. He pours some of the juice into a smaller thermos that he brought for the winter and caps it before shoving it into the bag as well.

Then he takes off for the exit.

“Later Lotor, if you want some help yourself, see you at dinner, bye,” Lance says quickly and heads out to the Quidditch field without even stopping to check his appearance in the lake window.

*****

“As you’ve probably already noticed none of you are wearing house uniforms,” says the Quidditch coach, a middle-aged man with a bright orange mustache. “Because you haven’t earned a spot on the house teams yet.”

He introduces himself as Coran and the coach for all four teams at Hogwarts. There’s a great big group of older students surrounding him and from their uniforms, they’re the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor teams. They all look like third or fourth years to Keith. Tall and well built except for the seekers on both teams-- both of them are slim and on the shorter end.

Keith doesn’t recognize people as easily as he would in class. Without their colors, he can’t tell where he’s supposed to be. He's starting to think it's intentional for some reason.

He finds one other Gryffindor from class and stands near them so he doesn’t feel so alone. Lance isn’t far off with some other students. Keith doesn’t think they’re Slytherins but it doesn’t stop Lance from chatting them up anyway. Even if they hadn’t taken away the colors,  Lance would talk to anyone but this way they end up talking back too.

“We’re going to break you all into teams since there are so many of you this year,” Coran says twisting his mustache. “Then, to gauge your abilities, each team is going to scrimmage against either the Hufflepuff or Gryffindor teams. The captains for the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams are also watching from the stands. So do your best!”

Coach Coran puts them into varying teams. Each house team takes half of the pitch so two games can go at once. Keith ends up on the east side against the Hufflepuff team. Lance on the west side with the Gryffindors. Their matches are happening at the same time so they can’t pay attention to anything but their side.

That being said, Keith’s trying for Seeker. Means he has a lot of time on his broom to just survey the field and spy on the competition. Including a certain Slytherin.

He finds that Lance...is a decent chaser.

Actually, he's more than decent. He’s giving his team of first years some play ideas and when they follow along properly it goes off without a hitch. If they fumble it Lance gets annoyed, that’s plain to see, but he doesn’t shout or scream about it. Just pulls them into another huddle for a different strategy, serious look on his face.

Lance spots openings fairly easy and shoots with some pretty good accuracy. Good for a first year anyway. Most of his shots get blocked by the veteran team but they’re still pretty intense. He’s got a strong arm--though Keith already knows that firsthand.

But that’s not even the most impressive thing he’s seen from Lance. His turns are _phenomenal_. He doesn’t really get up to speed like Keith can but he can change direction in an instant. Some of his changes are so sharp, he’s amazed that Lance doesn’t just fall off the broom. And Keith's not the only one to notice.

“Woah, how’d you _do_ that, mate?” asks someone on Lance’s team. Keith recognizes him from his dorm, a Gryffindor first year named Oliver. An Aussie with sand-colored hair and a crooked nose.

Lance blinks with surprise. “You mean the turn?”

“Uh, yeah,” Oliver mumbles, looking away. “I uh, can you show me?”

Lance grins and calls a quick timeout for their team. The Slytherin glides over to the guy and explains the technique to it along with the story of how he learned it. It’s special to the broom type, so it won’t work for all brooms. Also, it’s about how you use your arms and weight to pull back.

Keith’s surprised. He didn’t expect Lance to just answer him without hesitation.

“Look alive freshman! Incoming bludger!” someone calls out.

Keith almost gets struck by the renegade ball. Spins on his broom, upside down and back to his upright position as the bludger goes whizzes by. But it keeps going into the opposite field and right towards Lance’s oblivious group.

“Heads up!” Keith shouts with urgency.

It never reaches their huddle. Instead, it hits a first-year girl who flies right into the line of fire. She didn’t even see it coming. Right in the head with a yelp and knocks her from her broom. She doesn't even try to grasp on, her body limp from the strike. A ragdoll, unconscious and falling.

Everyone seems stunned at the sight. So shocked that no one immediately moves as she drops.

But not Keith.

The Gryffindor takes off from his side of the field, abandoning the game without hesitation. A straight shot going down. Almost perfectly vertical and hand reaching out to stop her from crashing into the ground.

Faster. Faster! Reach a little further!

He snatches her arm at the shoulder and pulls back on the broom just quick enough to keep them from becoming pancakes. Keith hears a pop and grimaces at the sound.

A dislocated shoulder has gotta be better than dead, right? Or a least better than a dozen shattered bones?

He brings her down over towards the coach and a dozen students surround them. The Slytherin captain comes running across the field in a slight panic and goes to her knees at the girl’s side. Turns out the student is her younger sister. The girl wakes a second later with a pained groan.

“What the hell hit me?” she winces. “A hippogriff? Ow ow ow...my arm!”

“It’s dislocated,” the Coach tells her and pops it back into place making her groan.

“Hells...bells,” she grits her teeth. “That hurts!”

“You didn’t have to catch her,” a guy comments to Keith. A Hufflepuff from the house team. “The coach knows a hovering spell for accidents like that. Would have floated gently to the ground.”

“I didn’t know,” Keith explains with embarrassment. “I thought she was--”

“But in a real game the ref can’t interfere with a spell to save them from the fall,” someone comments from on high, still on his broom. It's Lance. “It’s against official regulations. So...it's probably a good mindset to be in. Even if he ended up making her injuries worse. It’s better than doing nothing.”

Did Lance just _defend_ him?

They send the girl off to the infirmary with an escort of friends. She gripes and complaints the whole way. Then the coach claps his hands and urges them back to the field. They still have an hour of scrimmage practice. So get on it.

Lance takes off with his scrimmage team on his trail. A conglomeration of different houses all ready to follow his lead. Laughing and leaning in, ready to hear the next play.

Keith has a number of people from his own team smacking his shoulder, congratulating him on that killer catch. More than one he recognizes from other houses. The Slytherin captain even compliments that speed and thanks him for the effort on behalf of her sister. She says her sister may be mad now, but she won’t bitch about it if he does it again in an official match.

They all return to their respective sides of the field to continue. By the end of it all, the House teams decimate the first years.

Keith never even got a chance to catch the snitch. The other teams are faster and work better together without hangups. Makes sense, since they’ve been together for years. And on top of that, they just have more skill and stamina to last in the matches. The newbies were never meant to win.

After the balls get put away the first years gather together on the field, taking a seat and relaxing in the grass after having so much fun. Keith sees that Lance is passing out a few things from his bag to his new friends. Snacks and a thermos full of juice. A Hufflepuff over there transfigures a few Knuts into cups for them to share from too.

Keith stays towards the outer rim of the group but the bag does reach him eventually. Looks like...banana chips or something. He discretely takes a small handful and passes the bag along, not wanting Lance to catch him trying them.

He expects a super sugary and dried fruit but they’re nothing like bananas at all. Salted but a little sweet too. Kind of nutty. Perfect crunch.

“What are they?” Keith asks no one but gets a response from a nearby Ravenclaw.

“Plantains. That’s what he said they were. His parent’s sent them.”

They taste pretty good and now he’s wishing he’d grabbed a bigger handful.

He eyes Lance who’s telling people about the recipe his mom makes. Way better than these store bought ones he insists. Then he hands the juice around for others to try too. Some are begging for another cupful and he happily pours it for them, casting a little ice spell over the cup with his wand. Best way to drink it is cold he says.

Wonder if they’ll pass it over? Smells good...

“Alright first years,” Coran gestures for them to stand after they rest for a while. The house team captains all stand there with him but the rest of the teams have gone. “I hope you had fun but...good news and bad news time.”

They line up so that they’re in front of their prospective teams. It’s only now that Lance notices most of the people he was just laughing with are from other houses. More than a few Gryffindors. Now he’s going to have to play against these people he was just having fun with.

Only a few freshmen make the house team and the rest of the lot look disparagingly at the ground. Each captain calls out only one or two students for each of their houses. Lance doesn’t get called. And neither does Keith. It’s...incredibly frustrating, not to mention disappointing.

Lance looks ready to cry. Clenching his jaw and his fists at his side. And he’s not the only one. A couple others are on the verge of bitter tears too.

“Now now, don’t fret,” Coran tries to cheer them up. “It’s not the end of the world.”

He explains there is a fifth team and a dozen of them lift their heads. A sliver of hope in their eyes. They’ve never heard of a fifth team.

“It’s not an official house team,” the coach tells them. “Just a scrimmage team. Two of them actually.”

The Slytherin captain elaborates further. It’s a chance for them to improve on their skills throughout the year by playing with the house teams on practice days. Provided they show lots of progress, they may get subbed in later in the year. Or be taken into consideration first during their sophomore year.

“Us captains have chosen the members that show promise for the scrimmage teams,” announces the Ravenclaw captain. “It's up to you on whether you can handle it.”

They perk up a bit but the underlying message hangs in the air. They’ll have to work with the other houses like before. If you can’t play nice on the scrimmage team, you can’t play. Those are the rules.

From the look on his face this isn’t a problem for Lance. Doesn’t look like he cares if his team is nothing but Gryffindors at this point. He’ll do anything to keep playing Quidditch. But as Keith looks around he sees that doesn’t seem to be the overall sentiment for everyone. More than a couple of students look hesitant.

If they can’t be on the house team, they’re not sure they want to be on a team.

“Scrimmage Team A. Chasers,” the Gryffindor captain starts reading from a card. “Carson, Marcel. Ravenclaw. McClain, Lance. Slytherin. Lassiter, Serena. Gryffindor.”

Lance pumps his fist with barely contained excitement. He gives a high five to the Ravenclaw who gets called and waves at the Gryffindor, shooting the girl a wink. Keith’s never seen someone look so happy. It’s not even a real team.

“And that’s all for the Beaters and Keeper,” says the Gryffindor captain. “As for Seeker...we’ve got recommendations from the Slytherin and Hufflepuff captains for Kogane, Keith. Gryffindor. Congrats.”

Someone elbows a shocked Keith and gives him a smack on the back. Must have been that dive and catch since he never did get the chance to show off his snitch catching skills. What a relief. He can’t imagine going the whole year without playing Quidditch. But that means...Keith looks over to Lance who’s looking at him too.

They’re on the same team.

The Ravenclaw captain announces the B Team as well. They’ll swap out every other practice so that teams get a chance to rest in between games. Once done the teams gravitate towards one another, to talk and such.

“You can decide on your captains in a couple of days,” Coran tells them. “For now, good work. We’ll post schedules for matches at the start of each week on the announcement board. Take some time to get to know your teammates. You’ll be working together for the next year.”

The coach disbands them for dinner but they take their time leaving. Lance eyes Keith again and takes a deep breath before walking over. Keith braces himself for confrontation though he’s not sure why.

“Hey, so,” Lance starts and mumbles quietly so he’s the only one to hear their conversation. “I was thinking, uh...you should be the captain.”

“ _What?_ ” Keith blinks in surprise.

Is he serious? Lance handing over the prestigious position of captain? Even if it is just a scrimmage team, that’s kind of a big deal. Is this...some kind of trick?

“Why?” Keith asks, slightly suspicious.

“Most of the A team are Gryffindors,” Lance says, arms crossed and frowning. “You have their respect. So they’re more likely to listen to you than me.”

Not a trick, just practicality. While it’s true that more than half the team is Gryffindor...being captain is hardly what Keith wants. Keith’s never wanted to be leader. Lance showed earlier that he likes leading and he’s good at it. Better than Keith or anyone else on their team anyway.

“Not interested,” Keith reveals. “That’s why I’m a Seeker. No one to worry about but myself.”

“Yeah, but a team doesn’t run on just one person,” Lance reminds him and pulls the ledger from his bag. It’s titled ‘Amazing Quidditch Plays’. “I’ve got a lot of great strategies but they won’t matter if no one will trust my word.”

Is that his big worry? All that Slytherin cunning and Lance can’t come up with a way to get the others to listen to him? But it’s such an easy fix. Even Keith can see that.

“They’ll listen,” Keith huffs and takes the book. He scribbles something on the outside and none too gently shoves it back into Lance’s arms. “There. Now they’ll listen to you, _Captain_.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from Lance. Keith strides off the pitch, meeting his classmates at the exit without so much as a backward glance. Lance looks down at the cover and reads it with a smirk. Why didn’t he think of that?

The new title on his book reads: **Keith Kogane’s** _Amazing Quidditch Plays._

Not true but...no one has to know that. They’ll think Lance is taking orders from Keith in regards to plays. Sneaky for a Gryffindor. Maybe he’s not as thick as Lance thought.

Lance snickers at the solution and stuffs the book back into his bag. Then he jogs off to join the group of students heading to the Great Hall for a well-earned meal.

*****

Dinner is a different affair entirely after Quidditch tryouts.

The players who didn’t make it onto any of the teams but worked with Lance come and talk to him for a minute or two. No hesitation either. They just walk right up to him and congratulate him on making the scrimmage team. Lance looks more than a little surprised that a few of them, Gryffindors namely, are still interested in talking to him but he takes the attention in stride with a smile.

Keith thinks those little hellos are where it’s going to end but then a number of them sit with Lance, filling their plates and asking questions that he’s more than happy to answer.

Lance loves to talk it seems. He can barely eat anything with how often he gets asked a question and _can’t stop himself_ from answering. Keith’s at the table across the way, watching and listening in to the conversations but with his perfect poker face you’d think he was ignoring them.

“You were the one in that mock duel right? The one with Kogane?” a student asks and looking at his robe reveals it’s a Gryffindor. The one he taught the quick-turn to. Oliver again.

Lance nods. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Thought I recognized you! That match was aces, mate! Though at the time, I thought it was a fluke. That you just got lucky,” Oliver admits. 

“Yeah, I thought so too,” says a Ravenclaw sheepishly.

“But that ice spell, the one you used to freeze the grass?” the Hufflepuff girl starts up. “And then again on the cups on the field?”

“What about it?” Lance asks him and bites into a tart.

“That’s not a beginner level spell. I looked it up. It’s incredibly powerful! It can be dangerous even when incanted correctly,” she says. “A novice would have no control so...it couldn’t be a fluke. You must have practiced it a great deal.”

“I guess,” Lance shrugs. “My sister taught it to me when I was ten. _Glacius._ I didn’t know it was dangerous…I mostly use it to cool the house down. We don’t have A/C.”

Keith chokes on his drink at what he’s heard. A fellow student next to him hits his back to help Keith clear his airways.

That spell was _Glacius_?! Seriously?! Lance could have frozen the very air they breathed with that. To the point of freezing their insides. Shiro refused to teach it to Keith, because he thought the hotheaded Gryffindor lacked the discipline. Lance has known it since he was ten?!

“That’s so cool,” the girl compliments and start giggling. “But I heard you can’t use _stupefy_ to save your life.”

“Who told you that?” Lance asks with a pout.

“Who do you think, mate? Kogane, of course,” Oliver laughs.

Keith hides his face in his robe hood thinking Lance will look right at him. To be fair, he did make fun of Lance that first week. Like a lot. He wouldn’t blame him if Lance turned a heated glare on him now. But he doesn’t.

“He said in Professor Shirogane’s class you _barely_ managed it,” the girl says.

“Well...at least I tried…” Lance frowns and looks away.

“Don’t get down about it,” the Hufflepuff tells him patting his shoulder. “Everyone’s bad at something. Even Kogane.”

“From what I’ve seen, he’s probably insanely jealous of your charms work,” Pidge finally chimes in from behind her book. They’d almost forgotten she was even there.

Jealous? Of Lance? Keith huffs and eats from his plate with a frown. Why would he be jealous of _him_ ? Other than that _Glacius_ spell, Lance’s arsenal is hardly a match for his own.

“I offered to help with that,” Lance shrugs. “Guess he thought it was _too below him_ to accept tutoring from a _Slytherin_.”

“I’ll take that help,” Oliver says and the table laughs. “I’m not gammin’ ya. My dad’ll spit the dummy if I botch Charms. He was always aces at it.”

“What the hell did he just say?” snorts the Hufflepuff.

“Says he’s not kidding. His dad will shit a brick if he fails since he was great at it,” Pidge translates.

“It’ll cost you,” Lance jokes. “What are you good at?”

“Herbology,” Oliver says seriously. “Want my notes?”

Keith listens in as they work out a deal.

Notes for tutoring. Guess Slytherins don’t just help their own, though Keith was right to assume Lance wouldn’t help for free. A class’s worth of notes for Lance to copy in exchange for an hour-long tutoring session. At least the exchange seems fair. They can even do it after dinner in the courtyard if Oliver wants. He’s all for it so they shake on it.

Keith doesn’t care. Not even a little bit. And he’s certainly not following them after eating because he’s interested in learning anything. Really, he’s not invested in this, just curious is all. A quick peek and he’ll go on his way back to the dormitory.

He takes his place, hidden behind a pillar as they all meet in the courtyard. Pidge and Hunk sit under a nearby tree doing their reading by the light of a _lumos_ orb while Lance prepares to teach out in the open. Oliver stands next to him and draws his wand, ready to start. Looks like he wants to do the levitation charm.

“Show me how you’d normally do it,” Lance insists and passes him something to practice with. A juicy looking pear he took from the dinner table.

Oliver puts it on the ground and does the gesture. He encants and it takes a second for the fruit to levitate. Once it does, it rises unsteadily about an inch but not for long. It drops and Oliver groans in disappointment. That’s worse than when Keith tried it.

“Okay, yeah. That was bad,” Lance admits with a sympathetic grimace. “But fixable. First thing, don’t hold your wand so tight. Makes your movements too rigid.”

Lance reaches over and adjusts the hold. Keith watches intently as Lance’s fingers loosen the other Gryffindor’s grip. A looser grip? That’ll help?

“And relax your wrist. It’s not about being forceful,” Lance explains and nods. “Good, good. Now, keep the gesture light and fluffy. Like cotton candy.”

“Cotton candy?” Oliver asks, raising a brow.

“Er…” Lance balks.

“He’s Australian, Lance,” Pidge says. “Fairy floss,” she amends for him and Oliver nods with understanding.

Another try and this time the pear comes up quicker in response. Oliver looks pleasantly surprised but in his excitement he drops the fruit. He tries again immediately afterward and keeps it up. It’s still a little unstable as it rolls in the air but he gets it higher than before. When it drops this time, about thirty seconds later, Oliver catches it on the way down with a grin.

“Great, again,” Lance tells him and stands in close for additional pointers.

Lance is very handsy, Keith notices. He watches as Lance puts a palm on Oliver’s shoulder while the other grasps his hand to guide him. This time Lance adjusts his technique as he casts and helps keep it suspended in the air for much longer. Almost five minutes of constant contact.

What a flirt.

“Beauty!” Oliver beams, proud of the progress as he attempts it without help. “Thought I’d cark it before I’d ever learn to do this.”

“Want to try something heavier?” Lance asks and checks his watch. “Still got like twenty minutes.”

They levitate a book for a bit. It's tougher than the pear, which Lance is now eating as he instructs. He crunches bites and licks his lips intermittently between advice and praise. The rest of the time goes by fast and by the end of it, Oliver can levitate the book for at least a minute. A lot better than before.

“My dad’s gonna be rapt,” Oliver exclaims and hands over a notebook. “Here, the notes. Just get them back to me sometime tomorrow arvo.”

“Sure,” Lance beams as he looks them over. Nice neat handwriting. “If I don’t see you, I’ll just give them to another Gryffindor. Sound cool?”

“Yeah,” Oliver nods and shyly scratches his cheek. “Later Lance, and uh, thanks again.”

“Anytime,” Lance smiles at him.

The Gryffindor blushes a little before waving and running off. He almost runs smack into Keith but he happens to hide behind the pillar as he passes. Once he’s gone Keith peers into the courtyard again to see the trio sitting under the same tree. Lance is picking the seeds out of his pear core as they talk.

“Did you see his face as he left?” Hunk asks with a chuckle. “A certain Aussie has a crush on Lance.”

“Oh yeah? Really?” Lance perks up his head. “I didn’t even flirt with him.”

He didn’t? Then...what was with all the touching? The compliments? The smiling? If that’s just being friendly...then what does Lance consider flirting?

“He’s cute, I guess. Think he’d be down for a little fun sometime?” Lance wonders as he pulls the pear seeds out. He eyes them looking for a good one.

The others say they doubt it. If Lance asked Oliver might consider it but ultimately say no. Probably afraid of what his Gryffindor housemates would say. It’s likely he won’t even tell them about the tutoring, let alone the crush.

“Shame,” Lance sighs. “Oh well.”

Lance casts a spell on the one pear seed that passes inspection, making it grow a little. Then he buries it in a little hole and casts the same spell again to get it to take root. No guarantees but if he comes out and casts on it every day he might get a decent fruit-bearing tree out of it by spring.

“Come on guys, it’s getting late,” Hunk says as he stands and helps them up. “And you have notes to copy.”

The three of them start heading back inside and Keith just barely makes it down a hall as they come in. Seconds later they pass by him just as he buries his face into a textbook next to some other students.

He doesn’t know what he’s hiding for. Keith’s allowed to be in any place they are. It’s his school too. Doesn’t matter since they don’t even take notice of him.

“Maybe I should put a flier on the board,” Lance says. “I can tutor Charms after class on days I’m not playing Quidditch.”

“Would you only exchange for notes?” Hunk asks. “Cause I know someone who’d bake you a cinnamon apple pie for some help with _Alohomora_.”

“That sounds delicious,” Lance says as he licks his lips.

“Great, I’ll bake you a pie then,” Hunk laughs.

“Aw, come on. I wouldn’t charge you guys,” Lance shoves with a grin. “But if you want to make that pie anyway...”

Eventually, their laughter and conversation get too far from Keith for him to hear. Good, because he’s tired of hiding his face behind--an upside down potions book. Christ, he hopes no one saw that. He shoves it back into his bag with a huff and hurries down the hall so he can get to his dorm.

Why did he bother to see what they were up to? Why did he eavesdrop on them at all? What did he have to gain?

He barely remembers any of the pointers Lance gave Oliver to try himself. All he can recall are Lance’s hands gently directing him. His voice as he encouraged the guy to try again. That proud smile when Oliver succeeded.

If Keith asked, would Lance tutor him in the same way? Or would it be different? Would Lance even agree to do it at all? He has no reason to. It’s not like Keith’s been especially nice to him. Most of their interactions are no longer violent but they are curt and strained. Keith frowns.

But who’s fault is that?

Each time Lance approaches him Keith expects animosity but...that’s simply not what happens. There’s some tension but that might be because Lance is expecting Keith to react badly. Both on edge still from their first meeting. If Keith wasn’t so coarse, so intimidating then...

He really could use some help with his Charms and Lance is so good. He’s even offering to help, even if it is for a price. If he accepted--

What would he give Lance in exchange? His own class notes are abysmal. Could just pay him, like a normal tutor. Or maybe he could teach Lance a dueling spell, a hex or something. That’s a fair trade, right?

Keith enters the Gryffindor common room and sees Oliver sitting at a table, practicing his levitation charm. He’s mumbling to himself, the words of instruction that Lance gave him as he lifts an apple from the bowl. Looser grip. Relax. Doing great. He must lose his concentration while thinking of Lance because his cheeks suddenly flush pink and the fruit clunks to the table and rolls off.

Oliver keeps trying but finally stops, face planting on the table with a sigh. Poor slob.

Keith absently grabs a fruit from the bowl on the table as he passes and heads on up to his room. He’s done thinking about Lance for the night. It's not why he came to Hogwarts. He should just eat his snack, head to bed, and ready himself for tomorrow.

The others in his room are early to bed types and already sleeping when he gets there. Sumi is on his bed, laying on his pillow and he has to shoo her off with a book before she moves. With an unhappy yowl, she curls back up at the foot of his bed instead.

Keith sits with a plop and lays back onto the bed with a sigh. He then takes a bite out of his fruit, sighing with disappointment at the flavor.

Isn’t that just his luck?

All that effort to forget about Lance and he picked up a sweet pear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	6. The Three of Pentacles (Reversed)

 

_[This] can indicate a lack of teamwork, whereby people are acting in competition with each other and trying to appear the most knowledgeable. You may be trying to work collaboratively with others but there is an increasing level of tension as each individual tries to exert power or control over the group, thus negatively impacting the harmony of the people involved.  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

The week goes great so far as classes are concerned.

Lance isn’t late to classes anymore and he manages to stay awake in almost all of them with one exception. History of Magic is so boring that even Professor Zarkon’s bellowing voice can’t keep him from drifting off. Luckily, Lotor picks up the slack for him in those instances, giving him notes so he can catch up in his off time.

He earns points in Charms and even a few in Herbology thanks to Oliver’s notes. The notebook of which he returned to its blushing owner at lunch the day after tutoring. He’s still making mishaps in potions but that’s par for the course for Lance. He’ll probably never have a day where he’s doing great in there, no matter how well he pays attention to beautiful Professor Honerva.

And man it still blows his mind that such a bright and cheerful woman is married to the dull History of Magic professor. And that they produced a son that is nothing like either of them. Lance can only imagine the family dinners.

As for Quidditch...things could be better.

The Gryffindors are the only ones giving him grief. None of them were ones he played with at tryouts which is a bit of a downer. They’re willing to follow the playbook with Keith’s name on it but they don’t communicate well on the field. Not to anyone who isn’t a Gryffindor too. They never say what they’re doing or where they’re going and they don’t respond when Lance asks for positions. On more than one occasion they ignored him outright.

And they won’t call him Captain either.

Keith’s not exactly helping. It’s not that he’s making it worse so much as he’s just not getting involved in it. Just does his job as a Seeker and stays out of the strategy plays. No input whatsoever. It’s frustrating for Lance. Literally, one word from Keith and he knows they’d do what they were told.

So in the meantime, they botch shots, miss blocks, and collide. A lot.

The Hufflepuff team trounces them and they’re not even an offense heavy team. Keith gets ahold of the snitch but it hardly matters since they were down way too many points for it to matter. That’s how bad it was.

After the match, they sprawl out on the grass as the winning team passes out a few cold drinks. The Ravenclaw Chaser, Marcel, as well as the Hufflepuff Beater, Morgan, sit with Lance. The three of them send less than friendly glances to the remaining Gryffindor members of the team. The Gryffindors shoot them right back with the exception of Keith who makes minor adjustments to his gear with a frown on his face.

They all sit there and lay the blame for their loss against the other side as they drink their beverages.

“Jeez these freshmen,” says Matt with a sigh as he looks at them all.

He’s the Captain and right-wing beater for the Hufflepuff team. Gave them all quite the run for their money today. Marcel got hit twice by his bludgers even though their own beater was close enough to intercept. He just didn’t want to listen to Lance when he said to get in there.

“Look,” Matt says, getting their attention. “Rivalry doesn’t mean you have to hate each other, come on.”

“He’s right,” Coran agrees. “I saw some solid performances today but you struggle with teamwork. With communicating.”

“What’s the point?” pipes up the Gryffindor Chaser. A pretty long haired blonde by the name of Serena. “They’re not from our house. Even if we work well together, once we get on a house team it won’t matter. We won’t be working with them _then_.”

“So?” Coran counters. “You’re working with them _now_. How do you expect to get on a house team if you can’t even handle a simple scrimmage team?”

She tsks and turns her head away, appropriately shut down.

“And besides that,” Matt adds. “A healthy rivalry doesn’t mean you loathe each other. There’s a certain respect that comes with it. Your captain respects you, though he’s understandably peeved with your behavior.”

The Gryffindors snort and roll their eyes. Sure, yeah. Okay. The _Slytherin_ captain ‘respects’ them. They have a hard time believing that. Matt turns to Lance and addresses him.

“Lance, tell me something about your Gryffindor teammates that you value in their playing and what you’d have them improve on,” he requests. “I see you taking notes all the time. You must have noticed some things.”

He has but...Matt encourages him with a hand, gesturing to the team. His team. Lance clears his throat and crosses his arms as he wills himself to speak.

Serena has a really good hold on the quaffle. It’s hard to get it out of her hands once she has it. If she had better aim when scoring she’d be a force to be reckoned with. Just a matter of practice.

Alex is a decent beater with really good aim and follow through, but he’s slow on the broom. He’s not motivated to get to where he needs to be faster but if he was they could knock more than a few of the bludgers back to disrupt the enemy team.

The Keeper Bruno is very good at blocking the goals when he’s not focused on his own players. He loses the ball too often and before he knows it the enemy team is in his zone before he can switch goal posts. But Lance suspects that’s because wears glasses and he doesn’t have prescription Quidditch goggles yet.  

“I got nothing to say about our Seeker,” Lance finishes off. “Suppose he could run interference in the field or relay formations when not searching for the snitch. But other than that he’s actually doing his job. Mostly everyone just needs to listen better.”

They all stare at him. Nearly all of them less than pleased that Lance is reading them with such accuracy. The teammates at Lance’s sides snort and laugh behind their hands and Lance really wishes they wouldn’t. It just makes the Gryffindors more annoyed with his assessment of their faults.

He doesn’t need extra reasons for them to hate him.

“Wow,” Marcel laughs. “Captain’s got you all pegged.”

“Shut up, Ravenclaw,” Alex says with a grumble.

“But he’s right,” Matt interjects. “And that’s part of the captain’s job. To identify those aspects of your playing. To utilize your strengths and bring your weaknesses to light. So you can work on improving them.”

“Yeah, so you can’t take it personal,” the girl Morgan points. “Captain calls the shots. Just do what he says. At least until you make a house team.”

All of the Gryffindors look like they’d rather eat dirt. Except Keith who’s not paying anyone any mind. After all, he didn’t give anyone trouble today. Did his job so he’s not the one on the chopping block.

“You know, once you leave Hogwarts there’s always a chance you’ll end up on a regional team with the very people you’re playing with right now,” Coran explains. “Or with a rival from a different house. And your hate will only be a detriment to team structure. Remember that.”

Coran dismisses them all and everyone takes off, the Gryffindors doing so begrudgingly. Lance stays a minute longer to talk with Matt. Not about Quidditch stuff but about Pidge.

Matt hasn’t had much opportunity to hang out with his little sister since classes started. Lance thought he’d like it if someone gave him a nice little lowdown on what she’s been up to. So Lance talks and talks while Matt picks up the equipment.

Lots of studying and incantation pronunciation arguments with Hunk. She’s been reading a bundle of ‘cursebreaker’ books lately. Its some kind of secret project that she won’t tell anyone about. Matt laughs, saying that sounds like Pidge alright. The conversation is fun but before long Matt’s telling Lance to move along. Don’t want to be late for dinner after all.

“Actually if you don’t mind,” Matt calls out to stop him. “Could you pass this along to a housemate of yours? I have to clean all the equipment from practice today so I’ll be running late,” Matt hands him a folded up slip of paper.

“Sure,” Lance nods and takes it in hand.

“Name’s on the outside,” he says. “And don’t think about opening it. It’s charmed so that only the recipient can read it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of reading your dirty notes,” Lance grins slyly and Matt blushes a little.

“Th-They’re not--”

“Sure they aren’t,” Lance says wagging his brows.

“Anyway! Uh, thanks. Later Lance. Good game today.”

Lance waves at Matt as he runs back across the other side of the field with a dozen brooms under each arm. He waits until the Hufflepuff is long gone before looking at the swoopy scrawled out name on the note, complete with a heart. Lance silently gasps and covers his grinning mouth.

Guess Lotor wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t have a girlfriend.

Lucky snake.

*****

Keith enters the Great Hall for dinner a little late. After practice he ran back to the communal washroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. By the time he gets there Lance’s party of friends are already gathered around their usual table and in full swing of their meals.

Today Allura is sitting with them. She apologized to Lance for giving him the cold shoulder a few days before and the Slytherin fell all over himself to tell her it was fine. That he understood and all was forgiven so please sit with them whenever she likes. Ever since then she’s joined their crew for dinner each night.

They talk about their classes. Or rather, Lance asks Allura about _her_ classes and how they’re going while listening all starry-eyed as she speaks.

The Headmaster’s daughter is a wiz at healing charms and astronomy. She’s not bad at Defense Against the Dark Arts either. But she’s been having a hard time of it in McGonagall's class. Transfigurations are not her forte and she’s thinking of paying an older student to tutor her on the weekends.

Pidge pipes up that she’s great at Transfigurations. Her best subject in fact. She’d tutor Allura if she wants. No charge. Anytime.

Allura takes Pidge’s hands in hers and thanks her profusely causing the small girl to flush pink and short circuit for a time. It’s all too clear that she’s enamored by Allura, just like nearly every other person in the school. Some suspect Veela somewhere in her bloodline. No way to know for sure but it makes more sense than not.

Keith sits in his same place, a table over and directly across from them. It’s a good spot on the outside that he can watch from. He can hear most of their conversations but only because they never seem to moderate their volume. Lance especially. Could probably hear him from a few tables over without trying.

Lance.

He did his best during practice today. If Keith had been in Lance’s position and his Slytherin teammates were being little shits...he’d still be in his dorm room punching pillows for an hour in favor of breaking some faces. Maybe setting fire to a tree or two out at the edge of Forbidden Forest. Literally anything other than laughing and having a good time at dinner.

Does Lance ever stop smiling?

Suppose he stops smiling whenever Keith’s involved. Lance mostly frowns or looks indifferent where Keith is concerned lately. Even the smug smirks have lessened. But if he did smile directly at Keith, unguarded and genuine--

“I know, she’s super cute right?” says a girl at his table. Another young Gryffindor.

“What?” Keith blinks and sits up.

“The Hufflepuff,” she nods and elaborates. “The Headmaster’s daughter?”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith shrugs, pretending to care.

“Perfect skin. Sweet smile. Have you heard the laugh? Delightful,” she sighs, looking over there. “And so kind.”

“Yeah,” he agrees but his eyes are on Lance.

Perfect skin. Sweet smile. Delightful laugh. Kind.

“Wish she was a Gryffindor. That’d be the cherry on top,” she sighs and stands from the table. “Oh well. Like it matters. She’s out of our league anyway. Later Kogane.”

Yeah. Right. Out of his league.

Lance got popular after Quidditch tryouts. Lots of students came to support their friends that day. They saw his playing and became his instant fans. A few of them are second years. Some even came to watch the scrimmage match today.

Now he can’t go far without someone calling out to him. Congratulating him on killer shots and strategies. And Lance always calls back with a smile or a wink. He never forgets their names either, perfect memory.

He still calls Keith, ‘Gryffindor’ though. And on the field, ‘Seeker’. But if he started talking to Lance, outside of class and sports, would he call Keith by name too when they pass in the halls? Wave? Maybe eventually smile?

Ugh, why does he care?

Keith wakes from his thought process when the Gryffindors from his team take their seats around him. They pile up their plates and start eating as they talk. The topic for today is Quidditch practice as expected. He knows that the conversation will eventually shift to Lance and negatively at that.

With a breath to calm himself, Keith prepares for the inevitable.

“Great job today, Kogane,” Bruno says, adjusting his glasses. “Nice snitch catch.”

“Not really,” Keith huffs. “We lost.”

“Sorry,” Serena sighs. “There’s nothing wrong with the strategies. They’re good but…”

“I know what you mean,” Alex says and gulps down his drink. “I just wish that _Slytherin_ wasn’t calling all the shots. Why’d you give him your playbook anyway?”

“Yeah, they’re your plays. You’d make a better captain than him,” Serena suggests.

“You should do it!” Bruno nudges in agreement. “You should be captain.”

“I’m a Seeker...Seekers don’t make good leaders,” Keith reminds him. It's better to have someone who is in the fray to lead. Everyone knows that.

“Even so, I’d rather follow you,” Alex tells him and then laughs. “Maybe we can overturn the decision. Make him give it up to yo--”

Keith simultaneously slams his hands on the table and stands, making the rest of that sentence die in Alex’s throat. The nearby students go quiet and shrink back. Everyone stares at him, stunned at the outburst. Even Lance’s table hears the noise and turns to look, their conversations temporarily paused in favor of watching what looks like a fight about to begin.

“I’m not your captain,” Keith emphasizes in a low grumble but his voice strains to stay even. He directs his eyes to Lance’s table who are trying to go back to their conversation and ignore him. “ _He_ is.”

“Him?! _Our_ captain--?!”

“Yes. So if you want to win, _treat him like it_ ,” Keith interrupts with growl and fiery glare. “And you should use his name--he took the time to learn _yours_.”

Keith storms off and down the hall. His shoulders hunched and jaw clenched tight as he takes heavy steps through the school. People are practically jumping to get out of his way, whispering as he passes, and he’d like nothing more than to sock each and every one of them in their gossip mongering little mouths.

God, why is he so mad? Because they were ragging on Lance? He was doing that himself not even a week ago!

He swerves into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class to find Shiro at his desk. Glasses on and petting Sumi as he grades papers. He looks up to see Keith in the doorway, rigid stance and perturbed look on his face. Breathing heavy as if ready to spit nails.

Shiro takes a deep breath as he removes his glasses and cleans the lenses.

“I know that look,” he says puffing his cheeks. “Need the training room?”

“Yes,” Keith hisses between clenched teeth and Shiro unlocks the door with a flick of the wand.

“If you’re using fire, try to keep it aimed at the _stone_ dummies,” Shiro reminds him and returns his glasses to his face so he can finish his work. “I’ll be in in ten.”

“Take your time,” Keith manages to grumble as he strides by.

Firebomb after firebomb hits the stone statues. Normally he’d feel better after five or six but he’s going on ten at this point and ready to fire even more. _Confringo! Bombarda! Expulso!_ They rain down on the stone dummies, chipping away pieces bit by bit and none of it’s helping.

He’s angry. No, he’s pissed.

The ire is aimed at his teammates for the most part but a part of him is just as mad at himself. He can forgive _their_ incompetence because they're morons. But he can’t forgive his own and how long it took him to stop playing into his prejudices. Damn it all, he hates being wrong almost as much as he hates losing.

And he would know since he's been doing a lot of both lately.

The truth is...he was wrong about Lance and it stings to admit it.

Lance is more than the narcissistic braggart Keith pegged him as.  Even if Lance wasn’t, it’s not the reason he gets ragged on by the team. They do it because he’s a Slytherin and they don’t know anything else about him. Keith was even content to join in on the torment too. If Lance were literally any other house they wouldn’t bother with their harassment.

But Lance is more than just a Slytherin cutout.

He’s clever. Comes up with good plans and executes them flawlessly. Like in the duel and tryouts. He’s personable too. The only person Lance isn’t friends with is people he hasn’t talked to yet. He makes a point of getting to know everyone with a smile on his face. And he gives a damn about his friends and family. Enough to defend their honor with his own two fists.

And Keith assumed from day one that he was just another sneaky bastard that needed to be taught a lesson. How...embarrassing! He’s never felt so ashamed in his life! With a feral shout, he unleashes another spell out at the dummy.

“ _Reducto_!”

The targeted dummy lights up and implodes in on itself with a flash, crumpling into a fine dust just as Shiro walks in. The professor lets out a sigh as he looks on the heaving shoulders of his student. Keith’s nothing but a young, frustrated wizard clutching his wand tight in his hands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Something happen?” Shiro asks as he crosses his arms and leans on the doorway.

“No,” Keith pants.

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yes,” Keith breathes out, trying to calm himself.

“Well, that’s progress, I suppose,” Shiro sighs with a shake of his head.

“How...how did you get people to like you? In school?” Keith asks.

“Never thought you cared about that sort of thing,” Shiro answers.

“I don’t,” Keith assures him.

“Uh, huh. Well, you can start by checking your ego at the door,” Shiro tells him as he approaches his spot. “You don’t know everything. You’re just one kid out of hundreds at this school. You have to accept that sometimes, others are better than you.”

“I already know that!” Keith claims, a little frustrated.

“You know that yet you still get hostile when someone shows you up,” Shiro scolds and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Nobody likes when they get shown up,” Keith argues but lets the hand stay where it is. “No one likes feeling like a loser.”

“There’s your problem. You act like those two things have to be related but they don’t,” Shiro explains. “Someone can be better than you but no one says you have to feel bad about it. You know that kid in your class? The tall one with the shoddy _stupefy_?”

“Lance?” Keith answers while looking at the ground.

Is this really the first time he’s said his name aloud?

“Oh, he has a name now? You spat fire that first week and called him ‘ _that slimy, cowardly, rat-eating Slytherin punk_ ’ that you ‘ _couldn’t wait to destroy_ ’,” Shiro chuckles but nods his head. “But yes, that’s the one. Everyone else in class was terrified when you ignored my instructions and obliterated that dummy. That or they were pissed that they couldn’t compare.”

Keith shrugs dismissively. That’s not that surprising. It was kind of his intention.

“Do you know what he said?”

“What?” Keith sighs.

“ _Amazing. That’s so cool_ ,” Shiro repeats and Keith blinks in mild shock. “This is the same kid you had a fist fight with not even a whole day before. You weren’t friends. Not even close. But in that moment he wasn’t scared of you. Or angry. He was just impressed.”

He...he was?

“If this kid, who can’t stand you, can appreciate skill when he sees it, instead of getting upset, there’s no reason you can’t do it too,” Shiro tells him, tousling his hair.

That really happened? While the rest of the class quivered in fear or simmered with jealousy, Lance was struck with awe? He didn’t know that. Hadn’t even noticed. Keith can’t even imagine Lance looking at him with anything but a prideful smirk or perturbed glare on his face.

Shiro brings him in with his prosthetic arm around his shoulder and ruffles that head of hair again. Keith lets him even though it makes his hair look like a bird’s nest. It’s one of the few things that makes him feel like he has a brother who gives a damn.

“Look, Keith. Hogwarts is going to be really tough on you if you can’t...broaden this narrow view you have,” he sighs. “The other students, they aren’t worthless stepping stones. They’re saplings, just like you. Branching out friendship to others, gaining support, leaning and learning from each other--that’s the only way any of you are going to grow. And that’s what Hogwarts is really about.”

He’s so corny, Keith thinks, but it sounded good. Too good for Shiro to come up with on the spot. Keith chuckles a little and finally shakes Shiro off him.

“Nice speech, who’d you steal it from?” Keith smirks.

“Was it that obvious?” Shiro laughs and Keith nods. “It’s similar to the one Headmaster Alfor told me when I came through Hogwarts. I was a bit of a troublemaker too. It helped me, maybe it’ll help you too.”

Shiro repairs the practice dummies then tells him it’s getting late. He still has a few papers to review and grade, but Keith should go ahead and get back to his dorm. Take a load off and head to bed early. Maybe do the meditation exercises that he knows Keith’s been skipping. At that Shiro reminds him to use the aromatherapy oils too. To calm his thoughts and emotions.

“I will but...think I’ll take a walk first,” Keith sighs and puts away his wand. “Get some fresh air.”

“Good. Sumi,” he calls to her. “Go with him. Try not to stay out too late. You have a quiz tomorrow in my class,” Shiro tells him and walks him out of the training room. Keith’s about to leave when Shiro takes his seat and clears his throat. “And Keith? Congratulations on making the scrimmage team.”

Keith nods with half a smile before waving goodbye and leaving. Sumi follows behind him with an excited trill and her tail held high. She even bumps into his leg once or twice as they go in a rare show of acceptance.

When he finally approaches the courtyard Keith listens for conversation. There’s none.

Perfect. Looks like it’ll be empty except for this strange noise that gets louder as he gets closer. Sounds a little like tapping but it’s too late in the evening for a woodpecker. It’s periodic with long stretches of silence. He’d think it was a song beat but it’s not regular enough and doesn’t repeat.

Keith steps into the courtyard and looks for the source but seems like no one's there. Sumi sits and looks up onto the high wall. He looks to where she’s focused and finds Lance is up there sitting cross-legged. There’s a paper splayed in his lap and he’s tapping a pencil almost rhythmically on the stone wall he’s sitting on.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks and the sudden sound makes Lance drop the pencil with a frightened squeak.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Lance gasps and rests a hand on his thundering heart. “Trying to kill me?!”

With a squawk, Ciela switches shoulders and steps side to side excitedly at the sight of Keith. She’s nothing but trilling coos and flapping wings as she calls out to him ‘friend Keith’ several times.

“What are you doing?” Keith repeats as Sumi picks up the pencil in her mouth. She jumps the wall and drops it into Lance’s lap. The response to which is Ciela puffing up and growling at the cat.

“Stop that, Ciela,” Lance scolds with a sigh. He gives the cat a pet as a thank you before answering him. “Nothing. You’d think it was dumb anyway. It’s not for class and it’s not a spell that blows my opponents to smithereens.”

“So?” Keith raises a brow with a frown. “Doesn’t mean it’s dumb.”

There’s a long pause as Lance considers explaining. This conversation is already longer than they usually are with Keith. And a lot friendlier, though it still feels sort of like a standoff. But maybe the sooner he answers him the sooner he’ll leave him alone.

Lance sighs and passes down the sheet of paper which Keith takes. Dots and lines with letter equivalents underneath.

“It’s morse code,” Lance says with an embarrassed flush of his cheeks. “So I can talk to the selkies under the lake.”

Seems like a silly thing to do. Talking to Selkies?

Keith turns the paper in his hands to look a the symbols. It looks complicated. He wonders how one shows a difference in long and short beats. He didn’t notice a change in them earlier when Lance was tapping. They all sounded the same.

“What do you talk about?” Keith asks.

“Well, not much yet. So far I’ve got down some pleasantries,” Lance tells him. “Hello. My name is Lance. How are you? I’m great. Stuff like that.”

Ciela lets out a sharp whistle and they both look at her. She chirps, “Hey hot stuff, wanna dance?”

Lance grins at her and gives her belly a poke. “Yeah, maybe something along those lines but I don’t think selkies can dance, Ciela. Maybe, wanna swim, instead?”

“So...what’s the point?” Keith asks before he realizes how dismissive that sounds. Thankfully, Lance takes it more as confusion than rudeness.

“I dunno,” Lance shrugs. “For fun.”

Is that what Lance was doing in class? With his foot tapping? Practicing his morse code? He’s already got so much on his plate as a student and now a Quidditch captain. How does he find the time? The motivation? Seems like such a waste of ener--no. That’s what he expects Keith to say.

“Kinda cool, I guess,” Keith shrugs.

“Glad you approve,’ Lance says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

There’s a long pause between them and it seems like Lance expects Keith to leave. But he’s not ready to go yet. He’s considering extending the conversation. So far it hasn’t been bad. And neither of them are glaring at each other yet. Maybe this is a step in the right direction.

“Do we have practice tomorrow?” Keith asks as he scans over the morse code notes again.

“Nah, we’re free until Thursday,” Lance sighs. “Good thing too. Gives me time to work.”

“Right, you’re doing that tutoring gig,” Keith nods.

“Who told you that?” Lance turns and Keith avoids his eyes. “Oh right, Oliver is in your house.”

“Uh, yeah. He mentioned it,” Keith lies.

“Nice! If he keeps telling people I’ll never have to take notes again,” Lance chuckles to himself. “I knew it’d be a great idea.”

“Slytherins rule,” Ciela squawks in Lance’s voice and tilts her head.

“Yes! _Finally_! Good Ciela!” Lance praises and rummages through his pockets for some seeds. “Good bird! Very good!”

Probably took him all week to try to get her to say that. Keith can just see Lance sitting down with his parrot, patiently repeating the correct phrase to override Keith’s message. Being sure to give her extra treats and praise if she said it instead of the former.

After eating a little, Ciela flaps her way to the ground and bobs her way to Keith. She slips in to hide behind his robes as she begins to giggle. That devious giggle that means she’s getting ready to do something sneaky. She coos and whispers quietly.

“Friend Keith. Gryffindor rules,” she says and giggles again.

Lance groans in despair as Keith smirks.

“Damn it. Shady little shit,” Lance grumbles. “She knows how to play both sides.”

“Smart bird,” Keith nods and kneels down to her. She steps up and demands a treat for a job well done. He doesn’t have food this time so he rubs her fluffy belly a little as she trills with glee.

“So weird,” Lance shakes his head and pets Keith’s cat as she purrs. “That she likes you, I mean. Your own cat can’t stand you.”

“Sumi isn’t mine. She’s Shiro’s--uh, professor Shirogane’s,” Keith corrects himself. He forgets that while he’s here, he’s supposed to treat him like a teacher. “My parents wouldn’t let me get a pet. Says they’re a distraction from learning.”

“What?” Lance says with disbelief.

“Professor thought I’d be lonely without one though, so he let me borrow her but...I don’t think cats are for me,” Keith shrugs. “Maybe it’s different if the animal is bonded to you.”

“That’s probably true. I’ve had Ciela since I was six. We’re practically siblings,” Lance admits and calls his bird over. “Ciela, ven aquí. Besos por favor.”

Ciela flaps her way off Keith’s hand and back to Lance’s shoulder. She nuzzles in and lets out a slew of girly giggles before she makes kissy noises. Those kisses he requested from her. Lance chuckles and scritches her cheeks gently to which she coos.

“Everyone should have a pet. Even a sourpuss like you,” Lance tells him. “Maybe you can get one when you graduate?”

Keith shrugs but looks away like he doesn’t think it’ll happen. Lance frowns sympathetically at that glum face.

Does the guy ever smile? Or laugh?

With a sigh Lance tilts his head to Ciela, whispers a few words to her and with a little nudge to get her moving she flaps back over to Keith’s arm. Keith watches her with humorless curiosity as she climbs up to his shoulder and shyly bobs closer.

“What is she--?”

She presses her beak against his cheek and makes a comically loud exaggerated smooching noise.

Keith blinks with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by the action and not sure how to respond. His mouth hangs open in confusion as he stares at the parrot with furrowed brows, unable to get words to come out of his mouth. Doesn’t stop them from forming in his head.

The hell was that?!

Lance bellows from his perch, clutching his stomach with laughter. He can't stop. Ciela does her devious giggle noises and flies back into Lance’s hold. Together the duo laugh at their--Keith decides to call it a joke of sorts. A prank.

At least it was a harmless one.

“That was hilarious!” Lance chuckles more, wiping his eyes of laughter tears. “Your face--You’d think you’d never been kissed before!”

Keith gives a pouting frown and looks away. “Never by a parrot,” he grumbles.

“Oh, cheer up,” Lance smirks. “You just got a kiss from the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Isn’t that right, Ciela?”

“Ciela es muy bonita,” Ciela chirps in Lance’s mother’s voice. “Muy bonita!”

“Yeah you are,” Lance chuckles and nuzzles her.

Lance hops down and dusts off his slacks, still snickering from his joke. He gives Ciela another treat for doing what she was asked. Even if he didn’t laugh, at least they exchanged Keith’s gloomy frown for a split second of puzzled confusion. Better than nothing.

Sumi follows Lance down off the wall and looks expectedly up at him. Even chirrups for attention. He bends and gives her another pat along her long stretching body before he turns to get back to his dorm.

“Night. See you at practice, Keith,” Lance waves over his shoulder as he leaves.

He...called him Keith. Not Gryffindor. Not Seeker. Not moron. Just Keith.

“Your paper--!” Keith remembers himself and waves the code guide.

“I already memorized it. You can throw it away,” Lance shrugs.

Before he can say anything back, Lance is long gone down the hall as Keith just stands there. He looks at the paper in his hand, unsure what to do with it.

“Whatever,” Keith huffs but manages a tiny smile.

This was a good night he decides. Fruitful. A step in the right direction at least. He even feels calm enough to skip his meditation for the night. He folds the paper up small and pockets it for now. Then he heads down the hall to turn in for the night.

*****

Back in his dorm, Lance flops backward onto his bed with a sigh as he stares at the ceiling and listens to the water through the walls.

What was that all about?

Lance can’t figure out why Keith approached him at all, let alone talked to him for as long as he did. For fuck's sake, he didn’t say a single word to him at Quidditch practice. Wouldn’t even glance at him. And just now, he talked for so long without instigating an argument. Lance could even call it civil.

Could have used that kind of communication during practice, honestly.

When he thinks about it...it probably has something to do with that commotion at dinner. Lance couldn’t hear anything but he knows anger and annoyance when he sees it. Keith was mad at them for something. Losing the match? Lance shakes his head.

No, if that were the case, Keith would be mad at the whole team and he didn’t say anything to Lance or the others. Just the Gryffindors. Why just them? What was he mad about?

“Ugh, who knows?” he shrugs, resigning himself to never knowing before rolling over and bedding down for some much-needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	7. The Four of Cups (Reversed)

 

_“[This] reflects a time when you may be reluctant to open your heart to someone or to express your true feelings, instead withdrawing and isolating yourself from the other person. Be mindful of how this may be impacting those who are close to you and be considerate of their needs as well as your own.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

It’s been two weeks and Lance is beginning to think the semi-friendly conversation he had with Keith in the courtyard was the catalyst for a change in his classes. And he’s not sure yet if it’s a good or bad thing. It’s not that Keith is being rude or anything. It’s just...

Usually in class, if Lance says something Keith feels the need to contradict him. That hasn’t changed but now when Keith loses an argument he doesn’t stomp off and leave the classroom whilst slamming a door. Instead, he just clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath, and then takes a seat while he simmers. Sometimes he still shoots annoyed looks at Lance but the cooling off period is a lot faster.

And the couple of times Lance has fumbled his offensive spells in DADA, Keith hasn’t made an off comment about it. He almost does. Gets close to saying something rude and uncalled for but then bites his tongue. Crosses his arms and distances himself from the issue literally by crossing the room.

It’s like...he’s going out of his way to keep from blowing his top and not just with Lance. With nearly everyone. Like he’s trying to control his emotions better and Lance has to say, it’s preferable to his old way of handling stress.

But it can’t last forever. The kind of person Keith’s shown himself to be...he needs an outlet for his frustration. Holding in all these little outbursts means there’s gonna be a nice BIG one for that one person who steps on the dragon’s tail one time too many. Lance is sure of it.

He’s not wrong.

One day after practice the dam breaks.

They’d had a particularly bad scrimmage. Some of them were trying their best but others were decidedly not. Lance got more than a little frustrated as he called out plays but didn’t get the quick responses he knows they’re capable of. They lost, horribly, and with plenty of scrapes for their trouble.

That’s when Keith snaps.

“Maybe I should be Beater for our team,” Keith says hotly when they’re finally on the ground again. “Since we seem to be one short.”

Alex stops in his tracks and it feels like the whole area suddenly gets warmer as the team looks on with discomfort. Feels like a storm is rolling in even though there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Slowly, Alex turns with disbelief to face Keith. Keith, whose eyes look like burning embers. Alex squints, offended at the implication in Keith’s words but not on high alert yet.

“Excuse me? You got something you want to say to me, _Kogane_?” he asks, giving Keith an out to back off but everyone already knows he won’t take it.

“You heard me,” Keith says through a clenched jaw.

“Pretty sure I didn’t. So maybe you want to say it to my face?”

Keith practically throws his broom to the ground and stalks resolutely forward. Alex drops his too and Lance doesn’t like the look of that.  Now both of them have their hands freed up for a brawl.

Is this really gonna be a fight between _two_ Gryffindors? Those are usually bad...biblically so. Worse than any other combo. No one ever gets out without some kind of injury.

Alex stands his ground, feet firmly planted and waits for Keith who stops right in front of him. They’re practically face to face now as they scowl, staring each other down and neither giving any indication that they’ll back off. Keith’s eyes narrow into an unflinching glare.

“To your face then--My shit aim is better than you sitting on your ass and not hitting a damn thing,” Keith says, pulling no punches.

Oh boy. This can’t be happening. Lance does not want this happening!

The last thing he wants is to have to break up a literal fight between two of his most stubborn players. Both of which aren’t the biggest fan of him and would certainly throw a punch out in his direction and not think twice about it. And what if the others joined in? That’d be a lot of people making a trip to the nurse’s wing.

Maybe he can head this off before it gets physical.

“Hey, guys, let’s not--” Lance tries but gets talked over.

“Fuck off, Kogane. I do my job.”

“When you _feel_ like it,” Keith argues, his voice rising with anger.

“I hit the bludgers--!”

“Not when the _Captain_ says to!” Keith yells over him and points at Lance to emphasize his claim. “That’s why we always lose! If you can’t listen to _him_ then _stay off the field!_ ”

His words feel like they echo for miles, like rolling thunder. Just being close to Keith as he shouts feels like it's dangerous. Like standing on a hill in a lightning storm. The team is quiet as they nervously look on but it’s clear--he’s not the only one who feels this way. Morgan looks away when Alex looks to her for back up. No one wants to come to his defense.

Keith lowers his pointing hand to his side but clenches it tight into a fist as it shakes. He’s itching to throw down. Just needs an excuse and he’s ready to throttle Alex. Doesn’t even care if this guy’s a whole head taller than him. The other Gryffindor growls through clenched teeth and stares down Keith with an angry frown.

Lance isn’t sure if he should try intervening again. It’s like a standoff between two feral animals. Either they’re both gonna pull out claws and everyone suffers or someone’s gonna back down with a cowardly tail between their legs. Lance hopes it’s the latter, hopes someone will make the smart move to avoid bloodshed.

Either way though, this team is coming apart at the seams.

“I don’t need this,” Alex huffs finally. “Fuck this fake team. Fuck taking orders from a _snake_. And fuck you, Kogane. We’re out. Let’s go guys.”

It looks like Alex expected the other Gryffindors to go too. The Keeper Bruno steps over to join him and the two look back at Serena expectantly. Her stern face contemplating as she holds the quaffle under her arm. She then flips her blonde ponytail as she shakes her head.

“I’m staying. Kogane’s in the right,” she says. “If you can’t be a team player, you don’t belong on the field. And I _know_ I belong here.”

“Fine,” Alex frowns. “Suit yourself. Let’s go, Bruno. Good luck finding someone half as good as us.”

They storm off the field together as the team watches. Lance lets out a deep sigh, just thankful it wasn’t worse. That Alex guy has a strong arm and he’s grateful it didn’t go through anyone’s face. Namely his. And while Keith is smaller, Lance imagines that he’d have pulled his wand to show that guy what he’s really made of.

Then they’d be picking up pieces of Alex for days.

“Well, that could have gone better,” sighs Morgan.

“But I mean...I’m kinda glad?” Marcel adds. “I got hit by that bludger way too many times in the last few matches and I know it’s ‘cause he was aiming for the Captain.”

“Any ideas for replacements?” Serena asks with a frown.

“I know someone who’ll play Keeper for us if we ask but they weren’t at tryouts. I’ll see what the coach says,” Lance sighs.

“Then we just need a new Beater,” Morgan snaps like it’s an easy fix. “I’ll ask around my house.”

“Me too,” adds Marcel

Keith’s not about to ask anyone in his house. There are enough Gryffindors on this team to last the year so it might be better to get some different blood. Plus, chances are that Alex is going to be a poor sport about it and tell the others not to bother joining anyway.

Hopefully, it doesn’t ruin their next few scrimmage matches being a few players short. But fewer players have to be better than shitty ones, right? Now Keith feels a little guilty for breaking the team apart. 

“Sorry,” Keith mumbles.

Lance gives his shoulder a firm pat before bending to grab the dropped brooms.

“Don’t worry about it, Keith,” Lance shrugs as he tucks the brooms under his arm. “You were just looking out for the team. That’s all that matters. We’ll find replacements.”

He expected a scolding but this is more reassuring. Keith nods as Lance continues to pick up brooms. It’s the scrimmage team’s turn to clean the equipment.

“I got these, you guys can go ahead. If you need me, you know where to find me in the Great Hall,” Lance tells them as he shoulders all the brooms and shoots them all a smile. “Good work today. See you next practice.”

“See you at dinner, Lance,” says two of them in unison.

“Bye, McClain,” says Serena and looks to Keith who just shrugs.

“Later...Captain,” he says as they leave.

*****

Keith’s wondering what he did to get Lance to suddenly start talking to him more.

They have their usual debates in class and even trade petty insults on occasion but they lack any actual bite to them anymore. Then after class one day Lance ran right up to Keith, pointing to some scribbles in his playbook with a question on his lips. Something about diversion tactics and Keith surprised himself when he actually answered.

It was just a nod and assenting hum but that was more than enough to start a chain reaction. Now Lance talks to him between classes all the time, even if Keith says nothing in response and it all starts the same.

“Hey Keith! Look at this!”

“Wait a sec, Keith. Does this look right?”

“Keith, what do you think of this play?”

It’s so familiar and friendly that he’s not sure how to respond to it. Afterall, not long ago they were barely talking. Before that, they were actively shooting glares at each other. And at their first meeting, the only talking came in the form of threats with throws of fists.

He comes to the conclusion that calling out Alex's bullshit on the field boosted his view of Keith.

It’s not like that was Keith’s intention. He was just tired of losing and his housemates were the reason it was happening. Taking Lance’s side was just a coincidence as he’d have yelled at Lance just as loud if he were the cause of their problems. Whatever the reason, Lance has taken it upon himself to speak to Keith at least once a day now.

“Wrote out a new play. What do you think?” Lance says as he approaches Keith after Charms.

It's usually not the best time to talk to Keith as the class puts him in a foul mood. He’s not doing well. On his way to failing, in fact. Keith sighs before he looks over the page and takes the pen from Lance’s hand. Makes a minor adjustment to the play with a little scribble and hands it back to Lance for him to look over.

“Oh, nice. We should try that next match, see how it pans out. Thanks, Keith,” he says.

“Sure,” Keith shrugs. “Later, Captain.”

He catches a look from Lance that he can’t quite place. It might be disappointment or maybe annoyance but he can’t imagine why Lance would look that way. It’s not like he said something uncalled for. In fact, for Keith, this is pretty amicable. Practically nice.

Whatever the look, Lance just nods and takes off with his friends to the next class. It isn’t until a few days later that Keith figures out what’s been bothering Lance and only due to freak circumstance.

Keith’s late for lunch thanks to an after class conversation with the Astronomy teacher. Something about Mercury coming out of retrograde? He doesn’t remember. He runs down the corridor in hurry to reach the Great Hall. If he can get there fast enough he can still get a hand on something to eat on the way to his next class.

Right as he’s about to round the corner he hears a familiar voice and he stops himself to catch the end of the conversation.

“...making it impossible to be friends,” Lance huffs.

“Just tell him it bothers you,” Hunk suggests.

“And start a fight? He finally stopped calling me Slytherin,” Lance sighs.

Are they...talking about Keith?

“Maybe it's a cultural thing,” Pidge shrugs. “Kogane’s a Japanese name right? Might be he thinks it’s rude to be so informal. Calling you by name--it’s disrespectful.”

They _are_ talking about him.

“Oh...shit. Is that true?” Lance asks and lowers his voice. “Man...and I’ve been calling him by his first--”

“Or he just really doesn’t like you and may never like you,” Pidge interjects.

“But--”

“But she’s right. You’re expending a lot of energy on someone who’s shown no interest in being friends with you,” Hunk adds. “He won’t even talk unless you talk first. Even then, he usually just...nods.”

Keith _thought_ he was being friendly but this makes it sound like he isn’t trying at all. That he’s just tolerating Lance’s presence.

They may not talk much but...he regularly slows down when Lance calls out to him. Answers his questions...though now when he thinks about it it’s never with anything more than a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. But he supports the plays during practice. Confirms and relays plans aloud to other players including Lance. That counts as talking right?

Keith shakes his head and holds his chin in his hand with consideration.

Maybe all that stuff doesn’t translate to wanting to be friends. According to Lance’s friends, they make it sound like he just needs to initiate conversation. Without prompting. Using his name like any other student.

He can totally do that. It’s not that hard. A simple case of walking by and saying ‘hey Lance’ as he walks through the hall. Nothing more needed. In fact, he can do it right now.

Keith backs up the hall so he can get a walking start. A momentum so he doesn’t look like he’s been lingering just around the corner and listening in. To make it more natural. Then he gets moving.

Step. Step. Step.

The walk turns into a jog without his meaning to as he turns the corner and sees their group on the other side of the hall. This is it. Just needs to say hello. He opens his mouth as his eyes meet Lance’s but nothing comes out. His heart just thunders in his ears in a panic.

What’s happening?! Why is his throat dry?

He manages to swallow and readies to try again but Lance speaks first cutting him off.

“Hey Keith,” Lance says with a smirk as he walks. “Lunch is almost over. Better hurry or you'll miss out.”

“Yeah,” Keith nods and ups his pace down the hall.

Once he turns another corner he stops and slaps his forehead with his palm to rub down his face.

What the hell was that?!

This was supposed to be easy. A simple matter of opening his damn mouth and speaking. But then he saw those eyes. Bright and blue, looking at him as he passed--Lance had a ledger in his hand and he closed it as Keith approached. Like he was ready to give his full attention to him.

He choked. Sure, he was able to respond but it wasn’t exactly what he planned to say. Why was that so nerve-wracking? He didn’t have that trouble when they were in the courtyard together...but back then he didn’t feel like he was put on the spot. Now felt like he had to hurry and had an unwanted audience.

With a grumble, he shoves his fists into his robe pockets taking a deep breath. He’s never been good at social interaction. This would be so much easier if he didn’t have to speak. Something scratches against his knuckles and what he pulls out rekindles a memory.

It’s that dumb paper. The one Lance was using to learn Morse code. Never did throw it away. He unfurls it and reads over the Slytherin’s terrible handwriting.

**Hello. My name is Lance. How are you? I’m great. Let’s be friends.**

All complete with dots and lines corresponding to their letters.

Too bad this isn’t a real message from Lance. Then he wouldn’t have to bother with this--Keith's eyes go wide with a sudden idea. Yes, with this...maybe he _can_ do this.

*****

Lance completely forgot about the test in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He remembered there was going to be one soon but it crept up on him. Now he’s got an entire essay he needs to write on the creation and history of Gargoyles.

Looking down on his starting paragraph doesn’t exactly instill confidence in his abilities. He can’t believe he has to fill in three pages on this subject. Everyone else looks like they’re having an easier time of it but isn’t that always the case when one is panicking and underprepared?

He doesn’t allow his gaze to linger on his classmates too long. Doesn’t want the professor to think he’s cheating even though there are probably spells in place to prevent that. He returns his eyes to his own paper and begins tugging at his hair a little in frustration as the sound of scribbling pens, pencils, and quills fill the room.

 **_Tap_ ** _. Tip._ **_Tap_ ** _. Tip._

At least someone’s as nervous as he is. Tapping their fingers like that.

 _Tip. Tip. Tip. Tip…...Tip. Tip…...Tip._ **_Tap_ ** _. Tip. Tip._

Huh. It’s not regular. It almost sounds like...Lance straightens up suddenly alert. Awake and listening for the ambient noise again. Is that really what he thinks it is? It’s slow but...Who’s tapping out Morse code? One of his housemates?

Jeez, he really hopes one of them isn’t cheating, they get enough of a bad rap as it is.

He subtly scans the room until he spots the person doing it and bafflingly it’s Keith. He’s not looking up from his work as his finger taps out the message yet again. A ‘C’ and then an ‘H’. Lance scrambles for scratch paper and writes down the letters as they go.

C-H-I-L-L...O-U-T...L-A-N-C-E

Lance blinks at the message. He half expected it to be something a little more insulting. It's surprisingly supportive. But how--?

He glances at Keith again but he’s still not looking up from his papers. That telltale serious frown on his face. But in front of him are Lance’s creased paper of practice notes. So that’s how he’s doing this.

Keith stops tapping and returns his full attention to his work. Or maybe not his full attention as he’s tilted his head slightly to listen for any response, pencil stilled but ready to write. With a smile, Lance taps out a message of his own, a short one in slow taps so that Keith can transcribe it all down and translate.

 **_Tap_ ** _...Tip. Tip. Tip. Tip...Tip._ **_Tap…_ **

Keith nonchalantly writes it down. Then checks his little guide and rewrites out the letters. When finished he smirks.

T-H-A-N-K-S...M-A-N...

Keith gives him a ‘no problem’ thumbs up under the desk and returns to his essay.  He eventually glances over there a few minutes later to find Lance writing away and looking a lot less nervous while doing so. And all because of his message telling him to relax.

Or was it because he finally called him by name? Like a real friend? Either way, both students return to complete their essay, feeling better than when they started.

*****

Everyone finishes earlier than the time allotted for the test and the professor dismisses them early. They’re free to stay in class and chat or go about the grounds. But they need to behave themselves as other classes are still going on.

Keith lingers behind after turning in his test. Rolls up his excess paper slowly and even puts his books away one at a time. All the while eyeing Lance as he sits back and talks to his desk neighbors. Discussing the test it seems. Shame he’s on the other side. Means he can’t listen in.

Maybe it's just as well. He needs to head out anyway. With his spare time he can go study in the library. He’s not doing well in Charms and could use another refresher. He understands the logistics of the spells but putting them into practice isn’t panning out. His last proficiency test wasn’t pretty.

As he’s leaving and heading down the hall someone calls out to him.

“Hey, Keith! Wait up! Where you headed?” Lance asks, quickly shouldering his bag as he catches up.

“Library,” he answers.

“I was heading that way too,” Lance nods as he comes up alongside him. “I already know this grade isn’t gonna be nice so I asked for an additional essay from the professor. Gave me one on...uh...hold on.”

He rifles through his bag which is a disorganized mess triggering every neat freak response in Keith. There are papers in there facing the wrong way, folded incorrectly, shoved into pages of dog-eared tomes. Pencils, pens, and quills, some of which are broken and getting ink on the lining of his bag. There are even candy wrappers sticking to his books.

It takes everything within Keith to not set it ablaze at the sight.

Lance pulls a small sticky note out with a topic written in Shiro’s neat cursive.

“ _Protective house spirits/entities. Compare and contrast descriptions as well as the effects they have on the occupants of the home_ ,” Lance reads off the paper. “Gotta look up at least three different ones from three different countries. Five pages long. Know any?”

Actually, Keith does. His mother’s ancestral home in Japan has one. At least, he _thinks_ it still has one. It’s been four years since he’s been and the last time he went he didn’t see it. Supposedly it’s been living in the abode for nearly five centuries. Is it coincidence that Shiro gave him a topic that Keith could actually assist in?

He frowns at the thought that Shiro is meddling in his social life again.

“Don’t know any or...don’t wanna say?” Lance tries to guess with a nervous expression in response to Keith’s frown.

“Zashiki-Warashi,” Keith tells him and Lance pulls a pen out to write it down on his palm. “Japan. The Domovoi in Russia is another one.”

“Nice,” Lance nods and tucks his pen into his bag. “Two down. I’ll check out a few books and write it over the weekend. You going to the RoR party tonight?”

“The what?”

Lance explains that each semester there are four Room of Requirement parties. First one’s coming up, hosted by Ravenclaw house. There’s going to be music, drinks, food, dancing. And since it’s Ravenclaw’s turn to host it there will also be a trivia event too. The faculty allows it provided it doesn’t get out of hand and no noise complaints are filed.

Keith hadn’t even heard of it. No one’s mentioned it to him but when he thinks about it, makes sense.  Probably assumed he’d decline the invitation and they’d be right. He’s not exactly a party person. He can’t dance either. Free food and drinks don’t sound terrible though. And he does like listening to music.

“The rest of the team is going,” Lance tells him. “You should come too. Kick back and loosen up.”

“I’ll think about it,” Keith says and looks as surprised to have said it as Lance is to have heard it.

“I thought you’d say no,” Lance admits but smirks. “Maybe you’re not the biggest stick in the mud I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks,” Keith says rolling his eyes.

They arrive at the library and Keith immediately branches off to find a table alone. He pulls out his Charms books and buries his nose in one of them. No time for thinking about parties. He needs to get his grade up to at least passing or Shiro’s going to throw a fit. And then tell Keith’s parents about it.

Lance goes down one aisle, then another, each time grabbing another book to add to his growing pile. Once he has half a dozen he checks them out and shoves them unceremoniously into his bag. He spots Keith across the way entirely focused on his work with a big frown.

Hard to believe that sourpuss is the same person that stopped him from having a panic attack in the middle of a test. The same person who decked him during orientation.

Lance reaches into his bag and pulls out a small slip of paper. With a pencil, he jots out a note. Looks legible enough he supposes so he casts a little spell on it. It changes shape into that of a paper bird and with a flick of his wrist he directs it to Keith.

It flaps over and drops right into Keith’s line of sight, making him sit back with puzzled confusion as he searches for who sent it. His eyes fall on Lance who hurriedly gestures him to open the note. Keith frowns, unamused but he unfolds it anyway. It’s the time and location of the RoR party along with a small personal note at the bottom.

_Hope to see you there._

He does? No one’s ever hoped to see him anywhere.

Keith looks back up but Lance has already left. His eyes return to the slip of paper with a tired sigh. If he finishes all his work, if he does decently on his make up proficiency test, if he’s not exhausted after Quidditch practice... _maybe_ he’ll go. If nothing else, the music might be decent.

_Hope to see you there._

Keith pockets the note with a smirk and returns to his studies with renewed energy.

*****

He expected it to be loud but not this loud. The moment Keith steps into the Room of Requirement his ears are blasted with music and students trying to talk over it with their friends. The place is strung with lights and colored paper, and all the students are dressed as colorfully making Keith realize he’s not dressed for this. He came straight from a makeup test, not bothering to change into normal clothes and still wearing his uniform robes.

Almost everyone else is in club clothes of varying styles from different countries. Makes it hard for him to recognize people or the houses they’re from. He scans the crowd but doesn’t spot the scrimmage team. In an attempt to find them he wanders the outer edge away from the dancing bodies.

That’s when he spots a familiar face, that of Oliver from tryouts. Finally another Gryffindor and he’s in his uniform still too. At least Keith’s not the only one. The shy looking guy is leaning against the wall with his arms hugging his elbows as he smiles uncomfortably at people who pass.

Better than nothing so Keith shrugs and joins him.

“Kogane. I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says with a nod. “You don’t much look the partying kind.”

“You don’t look like you belong either,” Keith replies.

“That’s deadset but...Lance invited me,” he says with a flush of his cheeks. “I thought I’d give dancing a burl.”

That’s when Keith finally spots Lance. He’s in the center of a group of students, dressed in jeans and a white sleeveless top. A bright beaming smile on his face as he raises his hands and shakes his hips. He’s already got a slight glisten to him but from his distance, Keith can’t tell if it’s glitter or sweat. Neither would surprise him.

“He’s a character,” Oliver says, his eyes also on Lance.

“He knows,” Keith huffs out a chortle.

Now Lance is dancing close to a girl in Ravenclaw colors. Looks like he’s flirting with her and successfully draws her deeper into the dance floor’s center. Within moments his hands are pulling her hips backward to meet his, his chin resting on her shoulder as they sway. His hands guide her body against his as they dance even closer, no distance between them. Lance tilts his head and whispers something in the girl’s ear bringing a vibrant blush to her cheeks.

“You know he’s tutoring in Charms?” says Oliver.

“I heard.”

“Weren’t you failing Charms, mate?” he asks.

“None of your business,” Keith frowns, a little defensive about it. He just got out of a proficiency test...it was still pretty bad.

“He’s on your Quidditch team. He’d likely tutor you if you asked,” Oliver suggests.

Keith ignores him in favor of watching Lance again.  He’s still saying things into the girl’s ear with a smile on his face. When the song ends he lets her go with a farewell wink. That’s when he looks around and spots the two of them at the edges. Lance waves at them but only Oliver waves back. He signals to them to wait a minute as he wades through the crowd.

Moments later he’s approaching them with two cups of punch, handing them off to them. Tastes good but someone’s definitely spiked it. Heavily. And now that he’s closer they can see Lance’s whole ensemble.

The shirt is actually light pink, not white and it shows off his lean arms quite well. A shell necklace is strung around his neck too. The jeans are nothing special, a common blue but they hug nicely to Lance’s body. And that’s definitely glitter transfer from a dance partner. Ravenclaw blue and bronze.

“You guys actually made it,” Lance chuckles and looks down at their clothes. “I should’ve known Keith would show up in his uniform but I thought you’d be a normal human being Oliver. Nerds. Having fun yet?”

“Not really,” Keith answers, sipping the drink as he takes Lance in.

“Well, you’re just sitting here,” Lance snorts. “Grab someone and shimmy to the dance floor.”

Keith flushes red with annoyance as he huffs, “I don’t know how to dance.”

Lance stifles a laugh and leans on the wall rubbing two fingers together. “Two galleons and I’ll teach you.”

“No thanks,” Keith mumbles into his cup as he downs a mouthful of fruity alcohol.

“I’m in!” Oliver blurts and searches his pockets for the coins.

Lance laughs and laughs at the response, clutching his stomach with a grin. He looks like he’s had more than a few drinks himself with the roses on his cheeks.

“I’m just kidding man,” Lance gasps as he gets his breath back. “You don’t have to pay. It’s a party. Come on, I’ll show you how to Rumba.”

Lance takes shy Oliver by the hand and pulls him to the dance floor with a smile.

As they dance, Keith tries not to blatantly stare.

He tries not to think about how Lance’s hips move or how his hands hold firmly on his partner. How his eyes stay on Oliver’s face with friendly words of encouragement as he teaches the steps. It’s not nearly as intimate as the dance he did with the girl mere minutes ago but something about it capture’s Keith’s attention far more.

Why? Why can’t he stop looking at Lance?

Before he knows it the song is over and Lance leans in. Keith thinks he’s about to kiss Oliver but he doesn’t. He merely mumbles something into his ear, the response of which has Oliver’s cheeks lighting up pink.

What did he say? A compliment? An offer of an escapade? A spell? What is it that Lance says that makes people stare at him starry-eyed like that?

And why does he want to know?

They could dance too, couldn’t they? Lance’s warm hands on him, maneuvering him into the right rhythm. His whispering lips pressed into a smile against his pulse. That body grinding against his--

Keith nearly chokes on his drink and sputters out alcohol with a cough. He has to clear his throat with a couple more coughs before he can breathe again. As if that weren’t embarrassing enough, now there’s another disturbing new development---in his pants.

It’s time to make his exit.

Keith practically slams his drink on a table and quickly leaves the noise of the party. Once he’s outside the door it closes behind him, significantly muffling the music within. Thankfully, the halls are empty out here. He leans against one of the nearby walls and with a sigh then slides down it until he’s seated on the ground.

Maybe it's the alcohol but his face feels so warm and his...well, never has he been more thankful for robes. Why did he even bother to imagine that? Lance and him? He’s starting to think maybe he wants more from Lance than just basic camaraderie.

But why?

They’re hardly friends. With confidence, he could claim Lance to be his rival but not much more. Hell, Keith tried to beat him down their first day of school. He regularly gets into arguments with him in class in which he’s less than humble about his losses. The only time they get along well is on the field and that would probably end the moment they get on opposing teams.

That said, now he can’t get Lance’s sultry smile out of his mind and his cheeks heat up again.

Oh no. He knows this feeling. It’s happened before. He’s...he’s got a crush. A crush on his rival and only now does it feel like the most obvious thing in the world. No wonder he choked in the hallway. Why he can't stop staring at him. 

Damn it!

Why did it have to be Lance? Why couldn’t it have been _literally_ anyone else?

Keith hugs his knees in and buries his face in his arms with a groan. That’s what this is. It’s a crush. But now what is he supposed to do? Lance clearly has no interest in him. It obvious from the way he flirts with pretty much anyone but Keith. Could be that they’re just too different to be friends, let alone more.

Keith doesn’t know why but that thought hurts more than anything else.

*****

The dance finishes and when Lance looks back at the wall Keith is gone. He scans the area and catches the tails of Keith’s robes just as he leaves the party. He asks some of the people nearby about it and they say it looked like he was sick. Left his drink and just booked it out.

Lance can’t believe this. No one followed him? To make sure he wasn’t puking his guts out?

He resolves to just peek out the door. If he’s gone then Keith’s obviously fine but if he’s vomiting on the hallway floors then at least he can lead him to a bathroom. It’s what a decent human being _should_ do.

Lance pokes his head out the door and looks to the right. Nothing. All clear. But to the left shows Keith not far off, sitting down and holding his legs. Maybe not sick but definitely not okay. He approaches and squats down on his haunches.

“Hey, you alright? The punch make you sick?”

“I’m fine,” Keith huffs.

Even Lance can see he’s not but he doesn’t push it. Keith likes to swing a fist when people annoy him and Lance likes his face the way it is. Unbruised and unbroken.

“Alright, if you say so,” Lance shrugs and stands to go back inside.

Before he can even take a step Keith blurts out, “I’m failing Charms.”

Huh, look at that. He actually answered Lance. Just needed a second to admit it.

“Oh yeah? That why you can’t enjoy the party?” Lance asks, squatting back down. Keith nods in his lap. “How long has this been bugging you?”

“A while...a month,” Keith admits but keeps his face hidden. “Are you...is that tutoring offer still on the table?”

Keith’s asking him for lessons? He never thought he’d see the day where Keith asked him for help. This is big.

“Why didn’t you ask sooner, man?” Lance asks, scratching his head.

“I thought you’d say no,” Keith mumbles. “And I didn’t want...I...the others--”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Lance sighs. “Didn’t want anyone to see or hear you asking for help. From a Slytherin no less. That Gryffindor pride.”

Keith looks like he’s really stressed out about this. They aren’t close but they are teammates. He should do this for him.

Lance pulls a tiny blue notebook out of his pocket, a scheduler of sorts. He flips through and looks for blank spots. There aren’t many but if he cancels his breakfast thing with Pidge and the others he can squeeze him in.

“Got an opening on Saturday morning. That work for you?” Lance asks, pointing his wand at the square on his book.

Keith looks up and pushes his bangs out of his way before nodding. Lance whispers out a spell and it erases the event he had and rewrites ‘tutoring/Keith’ in its place. With that, he pockets the book again.

He’s surprised that Lance is willing to help, especially after all the trouble he’s caused him. Maybe they aren’t doing as bad as he thought. But then, this is a transaction after all. Lance doesn’t do anything for free unless it’s for his friends.

“What do I owe you?” Keith asks as he looks at the ground. “I know you charge for lessons.”

“We’ll hash it out later,” Lance shrugs. “Have a place in mind? Or is the courtyard fine?”

Keith has to think about it. He doesn’t want anyone to interrupt them. Or spy on them. The same way he did when Lance tutored Oliver. He’d rather it stayed just between the two of them for selfish reasons.

“The Defense Against the Dark Arts training hall is open,” Keith mentions.

“Alright, nine o’clock. See you then,” Lance nods and gives his shoulder a pat. “You coming back to the party?”

Keith shakes his head, saying he’s going to head back to the dorms. Doesn’t feel up to more drinks or music. Lance shrugs and salutes his goodbye before he jogs back through the doors to rejoin the others. With that, Keith stands and dusts off his pants.

Lance didn’t say no. Wasn’t even offended at the request. Means there’s still hope, however small, that they can at least be friends. This is his chance to do so. It’s better than nothing at all, so Keith will take it.

He decides to peek into the party one more time, cracking the door to look inside. He finds Lance flirting with another group of students, more Ravenclaw girls and guys. His words are tempting enough to get the prettiest girl among them to join him on the dance floor. Makes Keith sigh at the sight.

He’s not...He's not even on Lance’s radar...but maybe that will change tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. The Two of Swords (Upright)

_“[This card’s] state of calm and relaxation may be indicative that she is trying to avoid this important decision in order to bring about peace of mind. Therefore, the appearance of [this] indicates that you are currently being faced with a difficult decision but are attempting to hide from it and pretending to yourself and others that if you ignore the decision long enough, it will go away of its own accord.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

All Lance says is he’s going to do some Charms practice and Professor Flitwick happily packs a box of items for him to use. It’s full of different types of locks, little-potted plants, feathers, and bricks as well. A good combination, since Lance isn’t sure which spells Keith’s having trouble with.

He shows up at the training hall at exactly nine o’clock with the supplies he borrowed. Keith’s already there, shoving combat dummies across the room to clear a small spot for them to work.

Since it’s Saturday neither of them is in uniform. Just normal clothes for today. For Keith, that means a charcoal colored short sleeves shirt and black jeans. Incredibly plain Lance notes. Nothing like his own blue and green baseball tee that says ‘¡bienvenido a Cuba!’ and his jean cutoffs with bright red converse.

“You really cut loose on the weekends don’t you?” Lance jokes, looking at his clothes.

“It’s comfortable,” Keith says, a little defensive. “This enough room?”

“Yeah, it’ll work fine,” he says and puts the box down. “So which spells are you looking to improve?”

Keith digs a piece of neatly folded paper out of his back pocket. He hands it to Lance who opens it to read. It’s his most recent proficiency assessment from Flitwick. Incomplete. Incomplete. Poorly done. Needs improvement.

“Yikes,” Lance grimaces and puffs his cheeks at the challenge.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all. If Lance is just going to make fun of him--

“I told you I was failing,” Keith reminds him, red with embarrassment.

“No kidding. Alright...let's start with _Alohomora_ and _Colloportus_. Looks like you haven’t done them successfully yet.”

Lance takes a seat on the ground and gestures for Keith to sit in front of him. The Slytherin digs a lock out of the box and tests it. Makes sure it can lock and unlock with the mentioned spells. Once he’s sure it works he sets it down in front of Keith.

“Show me your incantation and gesture for _Alohomora_ ,” Lance nods at the lock.

Keith pulls his wand and does so. Says the words and does the gesture but nothing happens. Not even sparks.

“Okay, well, you’re saying it way too fast. Slow down so you can enunciate,” Lance suggests and then points at his hand. “Also, relax your grip. You’re not trying to force it open, more like... _persuade_ it open. With a smooth motion. Try again.”

Keith takes a deep breath and tries taking the advice. Slows down and relaxes his grip a little. The result is the same and Keith huffs in annoyance making his wand spark.

“Okay, better incantation but you’re still pushing too hard,” Lance shakes his head with a sigh. He reaches over and quickly adjusts the hold of Keith’s hand himself. Moves his fingers around so that he’s forced to hold the wand more delicately, then he sits back. “Try it that way.” 

Keith nods and does so. For a second he thinks it’s opening but it rebounds and locks again. It takes everything to resist the urge to throw the damn thing across the room and blow it into oblivion. Lance scoots over to his side and taps his lip contemplatively before speaking again.

“You’re still a little fast. Here,” Lance takes his hand again and shows him the gesture at the slower speed. “Now encant when I start the wave.”

Keith swallows while glancing at the contact but says the spell while Lance guides his hand. A slow smooth movement. Then a loud click resounds throughout the room. It’s unlocked.

Keith can hardly believe it. Just blinks with shock at the padlock on the ground.

“I...did it?” he finally mumbles. 

“Shocking, I know,” Lance says as he takes his hand away. He then throws out his chest proudly. “I’m pretty amazing. Now see if you can do it without me guiding you.” 

Lance locks it back again and it takes a few tries but Keith manages it again without aid. Lance locks it several more times for him and now he’s opening it half the times he tries.  

“See? And it only took you...half an hour. Not bad,” Lance congratulates him with a pat. “Now locking is a slightly different story.”

This is less nerve-wracking than Keith thought it would be. With the two of them alone like this--Keith shakes his head of the thought. This is work for Lance, not leisure. It’s not even close to a date. Regardless, Keith finds he enjoys these fleeting touches even if they’re nothing more than assistance.

“This one you can be a little more firm with. The gesture is more angular but the motion still needs to be smooth,” he explains as he demonstrates it in one try. “Need me to show it again?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods. He hardly caught it at all.

Lance does it a few more times but Keith can’t stop looking at his wrist. He flicks it so smoothly. Practiced and flexible. Keith starts when Lance snaps to get his attention.

“Still there? Alright, now you try,” Lance waves at the lock.

Keith nods and points the wand down. He does the motion, trying to remember how Lance did it but the spell just fizzles and sparks. It doesn’t work. With slight frustration, he tries a couple more times before Lance sighs and takes his hand again. 

“It’s in the _wrist_ ,” he tells him as he guides. “You know, guys usually have an easier time with this spell, for obvious reason,” Lance snickers.

Keith swallows at the lewd joke but allows Lance to adjust his hold again. He guides him through the gesture in slow motion. Step by step with warm fingers clasped around his.

“But do it faster than this,” Lance explains and then lets go. “By the time you finish the words, the movement should be finished.”

Keith practices the movement a few times, getting the timing down in his head as he thinks the spell. He encants in his mind as he waves the wand. When he’s sure he’s got the gesture down perfectly he says it aloud. Another loud click resounds throughout the room, this time as it shuts and latches.

Keith’s eyes light up at the sight with a surprised gasp. 

“I got it!” 

“Nice!” Lance beams. “I figured you’d have an easier time with locking.” 

It’s been over an hour. Most of his tutoring sessions only last that long but...Keith’s locking and unlocking the padlock over and over with a victorious smirk. He’s so damn pleased with himself and it’s the first time Lance has seen him smiling without shooting a dueling spell at someone. Almost looks like he’s actually having a good time.

Lance thinks to look at his watch again but doesn’t, instead he pulls a few potted plants out from the box.

“Now for _herbivicus_ ,” Lance says as he places down the pots. “This one’s really _swoopy_.”

“Swoopy?” Keith repeats with a puzzled look.

“Yeah, _swoopy_. I don’t think there’s another word for it,” Lance shrugs and tilts his head side to side. “Lots of swirls. Probably why it’s so tough for you. You’re not exactly fluid with your wand work.” He raises his hands with a chuckle to defend himself from the frown and glare Keith gives him. “Not an insult, just an observation.”

Lance turns the pot and directs the point of his wand at the closed bud. With waving and swirling gestures, he coaxes the flower to open. A beautiful purple blossom opens at his incantation and Lance beams at it. He leans in for a sniff and sits back with a smile.

“I use this one for my dad’s garden all the time,” Lance reveals and then lowers his voice. “Don’t tell him. He thinks he has a green thumb.”

Lance chuckles to himself as he touches the bloom and Keith catches himself staring again. Slender fingers gently caressing petals with a hum. He averts his eyes and clears his throat. 

“Uh, can you show me the movement again?” he asks and Lance nods.  

He shows him again, blooming several more flowers in the process. Keith tries his hardest to mimic him but falls flat each time. At least his wand doesn’t spark up with his annoyance. Lance scoots in closer, then grasps Keith’s arm at the wrist and the elbow. 

“Just like this...swoop up, then back to the center. Like drawing a flower with your wand,” Lance tells him.  

Like drawing a flower? He can do that. Keith draws with some frequency, though when he thinks about it...most of his lines are scratchy and jagged then too. Maybe the comparison isn’t that helpful.  

“Loop it three times in the course of the spell. Smoothly. Without stopping. Got it?”

“Show me again,” Keith says as he doesn’t think he can remember how and it comes with the added bonus of keeping Lance’s hands on him.

He shows him several times while calling out the spell. Together Lance blooms several flowers, technically, with Keith’s wand. Lance keeps his hand moving in gentle swirls while Keith calls out the spell in correct time. The flower blooms and Keith looks surprised as well as pleased. 

“Look at that, you did it,” Lance nods. “Now can you do it without help?”

Lance takes away his hands and watches as Keith makes his attempts. He tries it several times but fails each time. He just can’t get the timing right because all he can focus on is the fact that Lance’s hand isn’t there to support him. That comforting warmth and gentle touch. He gets frustrated and starts clenching his wand tighter making the end of his wand spark.

“Calm down,” Lance sighs. “Time for a break anyway. It’s almost lunchtime.”

What?

Keith can’t believe it. Have they really been here nearly two hours? The clock on the wall shows that it’s true. Why didn’t Lance say anything? He’s got to have better things to do than school Keith in remedial Charms.

Lance rummages through his bag and pulls out a handful of fruit and those chips he loves. Made of yucca or something. He’s even got his thermos of sweet guarapo juice. Keith didn’t bring anything as he didn’t think they’d still be together at lunch.

“Want some?” Lance asks and offers a croissant from his bag. “There’s more than enough to go around.”

Keith nods and takes the bread. They split the bag of chips which Keith isn’t as big a fan of compared to the plantain ones he had before. Lance chills the beverage in the thermos with his amazing ice spell before pouring its contents into the lid and sliding it to Keith. He drinks directly from the thermos as Keith sips the sugary drink from the cup.

“Thanks, for this,” Keith says into the cup, not looking at Lance.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance waves off and chews his food. “If you fail Charms they’ll kick you off the scrimmage team. Can’t afford to lose any more good players.”

It’s a comfort to know that Lance thinks he’s a good player. Maybe now’s a good time to say something that’s been on Keith’s mind. They are alone after all. And if he doesn’t do it now he seriously doubts their friendship will progress any further.

There’s a long quiet pause before Keith clears his throat. Lance looks up waiting for him to speak.

“I...I’m sorry,” Keith mumbles, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You’re...sorry? Uh, for what?” Lance asks, not quite following.

“For the fight,” Keith huffs as if it was obvious what he meant. "The first day...I'm sorry."

“Oh, that. Jeez,” Lance snorts and continues with his food. “It’s cool. Forgave that weeks ago. Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

“Really?” Keith asks with disbelief. It’s that easy?

“Yeah,” Lance nods.

There’s a knock at the door and both of them look over to see Shiro poking his head in with curiosity.

“What’s going on in here?” he asks with a smile, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Tutoring,” Lance answers before Keith can say anything.

“Tutoring?” Shiro raises a brow puzzled. “Never thought I’d see this. Keith taking advice from--”

“Shut up Shi--er, professor,” Keith says, correcting himself but it’s too late. His familiarity is showing so he just sticks with his usual attitude. “Get lost, Shiro.”

“Alright, alright,” Shiro chuckles with his hands out to defend him. “I’ll leave you two alone. Play nice. No repeats of day one, hear me?”

Lance laughs at that and Keith rolls his eyes with a huff as Shiro leaves.

“Your brother, right?” Lance guesses with another laugh. “I have siblings and that’s _exactly_ how they act.”

“He’s more like a guardian. Our families have been close for generations so,” Keith explains and bites into an apple. “My parents are always busy. Ministry of Magic. So he watches out for me as a favor to them.”

“So a brother. Like I said,” Lance nods. “Want to try _herbivicus_ again?” he asks as he rolls up his bag of chips and puts them in his bag.

“Not really,” Keith sighs. He’s tired of failing and he’s taken up enough of Lance’s time. “How am I paying you back for this?”

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it,” Lance admits and leans back on his arms as he thinks. “You don’t seem like the studious type.”

“I’m not,” Keith agrees begrudgingly. His notes are abysmal but his memory is pretty good, so usually it doesn’t matter much.

“How about you teach me one of those crazy dueling spells?” Lance suggests.

Keith had thought about that but then remembered how long all those spells took him to learn. And how dangerous the learning curve is. One of those backfiring on Lance wouldn't be pretty and he'd hate to be responsible for Lance losing fingers. 

“I couldn’t. Each of them takes months and that’s with a proper teacher,” Keith shakes his head. “I’m no professor.”

Lance nods in understanding then suddenly sits up with a snap. “Oh! I know! A tour!”

“Of what?”

“The Gryffindor common room, of course!” Lance says as if there could be no other answer.

“What? Why?” Keith asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“That was my sister’s house. She always told me stories about it but since I’m in Slytherin no self-respecting Gryffindor is gonna let me come in to check it out,” Lance shrugs.

“Probably not allowed,” Keith says but there’s no conviction. He chooses to ignore Lance’s insinuation that Keith has no self-respect if he agrees to it.

“You could vouch for me. I won’t cause trouble, I swear!” Lance promises. “I just want to look around.”

“I don’t know,” Keith shakes his head.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please,” Lance begs, his hands together in exaggerated prayer.

It’s got to be against the rules to let anyone from rival houses into the dorm.  Or if it isn’t then it’s probably very frowned upon. Especially a _Slytherin_ in the _Gryffindor_ common room. He’d get shunned for weeks. A good portion of the freshman class already don’t like him for that stunt he pulled with Alex.

But...he does want to be better friends with Lance and this seems like the way to do it. Breaking rules and possibly getting into trouble. Together. Sounds like a fun time to Keith; he was never one for following the rules anyway.

“Fine,” Keith says and Lance breaks out into an ecstatic grin. “But sometime closer to winter break. There won’t be as many people in there.”

“YES! _Finally_!” Lance says pumping his fist. “I heard there’s a portrait of The Three in there, and it’s signed. Is it true? None of the other Gryffindors will tell me.”

Keith smirks. “Guess you’ll have to wait to find out,” he says.

“Ugh, fine!” Lance groans. “But I’m holding you to this. No take backs.”

Lance sticks out his hand to shake on it. Keith eyes it like before but not nearly as long. The last time they shook hands Keith proclaimed that they weren’t friends. Feels like that’s changing. He grips Lance’s hand and shakes on their deal.

“Awesome,” Lance grins but loses his smile when he checks his watch. “Crap. Got another gig in half an hour. One more go around with _herbivicus_ and I need to head out.”

Lance watches and gives advice as Keith tries yet again. Eventually, he manages to get a flower to bloom halfway on his own. Good enough to get a satisfactory on his retest. Once done Lance gathers up all the supplies into the box and prepares to take it away for his next tutoring session.

Keith stops him before he can leave. He reaches into the box and takes a fresh potted plant back out. No blooms on it. He wants to practice a little more on his own. He’ll take it back to Flitwick later.

“Cool. I have a feeling _that one_ will be your color,” Lance tells him and gives his shoulder a nudge. “See you at practice on Wednesday. Later, Keith.”

Keith holds the plant in both hands as Lance’s steps disappear into the classroom and then into the halls.

Three hours. A whole three hours...but it felt like minutes. Shame it couldn’t have lasted longer.

Why didn’t he ask specifically for help with the levitation charm? Then he would have stood behind Keith like with Oliver. One hand on his and the other at the small of his back. Encouraging voice in his ear. Maybe then he’d be on Lance’s radar. Maybe then the thought would have crossed his mind afterward, just like with Oliver.

Lance gave him a playful nudge though. Shared his lunch. He even laughed with him. And how many times did he smile?

Keith swirls his wand at the plant bud, sighing out the incantation. Without expecting it, the flower unfurls and blooms into a bright red blossom. Red for Gryffindor. Red like his favorite jacket. Red for fire. For passion. Keith feels a smile creep onto his face.

Lance is right yet again. It’s definitely his color.

*****

Wednesday approaches faster than either of them anticipated. Their scrimmage team has it’s newest recruits as well.

Hunk took some convincing. He likes Quidditch as much as anyone else but they always put him into a Beater role because of his size. He’s not a fan of it. Lance assured him he wouldn’t have to do that if he joined. He could be their new Keeper. He’s not the fastest on a broom but he can block a goal easily.

As for their newest beater...Lance swoons as she comes in pulling her silver hair back. Their Hufflepuff beater came through with a beautiful addition to their team. Allura adjusts her gloves and picks up a bat, giving it a few swings with a pleased smile.

“It’s a bit shorter and heavier than I thought it would be,” she admits.

“You’ve never played?” Keith asks, his arms crossed.

“Well, baseball, when I visited overseas. I played with a bunch of muggles,” she says. “It was fun and I was very good.  I don’t see how hitting a bludger is any different. Might even be easier.”

“How good are you on a broom?” asks Serena.

“She’s good enough to sub in for at least a couple of games,” says their other Hufflepuff.

“If I have fun, I’ll join for the year,” Allura smiles.

“Then let's get warmed up before the Ravenclaw team shows,” Lance gestures them all to the field.

As they warm up, Pidge sits up in the stands to support them. She’s waving a flag, two in each hand, for each house since their team is a conglomeration of all of them. The little Ravenclaw doesn’t even cheer for the house team once they arrive. Just their ragtag group, even though carrying four different flags is getting a little tiresome.

“You need a team name,” she calls out to them, juggling her flags. “This is ridiculous.”

“How about Wind Warriors?” proposes Marcel. “Cool right?”

“Warriors sounds nice but...maybe something more regal,” Allura hums.

“Pidge, need another word for warrior,” says Hunk with a point. “Go!”

“Knights. Soldiers. Paladins. Champions,” she lists off. “Pick one after the match. If you _win,_ that is.”

They laugh at that. They haven’t won a single match yet and today probably isn’t going to be any different. Doesn’t mean they won’t try though. It's the first they’ve had a full team in two matches. Maybe they’ve got a chance.

Feels like they’re doing well with their new team match up even as they get deeper into the match. Allura is fast on a broom and whams those bludgers into the enemy formations frequently. The first time she hits one of the House team brooms she apologizes profusely thinking she’d broken a rule.

“No, no, Allura,” Lance laughs. “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Oh? Wonderful,” she smirks and rolls her shoulder, ready to hit another. “In that case…”

After that, she almost never misses with her strikes.

Hunk does great keeping those quaffles out. His size makes it hard for them to get past, like a blockade. As long as he gets a signal from them telling which post to protect, he can get there in seconds to block it, with his body if not his arms. That being said, the Ravenclaw team is still a hundred points ahead after an hour of play.

Lance whistles for a timeout huddle and everyone brings it in.

“We’ve been scoring a lot but at this point, they’re still kicking our ass,” Lance starts while maintaining a smile. “But doesn’t mean we can’t win. New plan. Defense focus.”

“Ugh, I hate playing defensively,” Serena grumbles but nods her head.

“We wait them out until Keith gets the snitch. Got it?” he says. “If any of you happen to spot it before him, whistle and put it on your right side. Don’t want them finding it before Keith can scoop it up.”

They break away from the huddle with a cheer then take their positions for defensive plays. They do well for a bit but Ravenclaw steals the ball away and scores twice more.

“Damn,” Lance says biting his lip. “Serena, get that quaffle and don’t let them have it! Allura, Morgan, hit those bludgers at their Chasers.”

They nod and Lance levels his eyes at Keith.

“Find that snitch and get it,” Lance says and Keith nods. “Marcel and I will get in their way. Won’t give them a chance to focus. We can win this! Let’s go!”

They get back in there with renewed vigor. Serena steals that ball and, as Lance said to, keeps anyone from getting a hand on it. No matter how many times they score right now it won’t matter. What’s important is to buy time for Keith who keeps his eyes peeled for a glint of gold.

He spots it! And damn if it isn’t super close to the opposing Seeker. If he dives for it she’ll catch on and pick it up before him. What he needs is a distraction. As Lance suggested, he positions it to his right and whistles to the closest other player. Allura. Hopefully, she spots--

She does see it and immediately slams the bludger into the other seeker’s broom, nearly knocking her right off it. It’ll take her a second to restabilize but that’s enough for Keith to get a head start. He makes a dive for it from on high. By the time he’s even with her, she’s back on her broom and diving too.

The enemy has help too though. Her allies smack the bludger back in Keith’s direction aiming for the front of his broom. He braces himself for impact but Lance flies in and intercepts with his body. Keith can't tell but it looks like a direct hit to the stomach.

“Keep going!” he gasps, the air temporarily knocked out of him.

Keith does as he says and reaches as far as he can as they plummet towards the ground. The both of them stretch their hands out and--SNATCH!

At the last minute, he pulls up but not fast enough. He loses his balance and falls off his broom a few feet from the ground. The momentum throws him. Making him tumble and somersault on the grass, only coming to a stop on his back after three flips.

All the players on their brooms stop and stare down at him worried. He’s not moving at first. But then he raises a fist while spitting out grass. A gleam of gold shines and buzzes in his hand.

“He got it!” Pidge shouts in shock.

His team swarms Keith on the grass with shouts of glee. Lance and Serena are the first to land, abandoning their brooms immediately and slamming right into him. Everyone is hooting and hollering and it’s contagious. By the time Hunk picks all three of them up, Keith is cheering too.

“We won! We won!” Lance shouts with a beaming smile. His hand is clasped on Keith’s wrist and raising the snitch high in victory.

“Good job, scrimmage team A,” Coran congratulates them.

“We’re the Paladins! Knights of the Pitch! Champions of the sky!” Serena cheers and the others join her in chanting ‘Pal-a-dins’ over and over.

“Alright then. Well done Paladins!” Coran chuckles. “Nice to see you behaving like a team.”

Lance can’t stop smacking shoulders and laughing. Hugging Hunk and high fiving anyone who’ll give him one. He even lifts Morgan into the air with a victorious shout. He can’t believe they won, even if it isn’t an official match. It just feels good to be the victors for once.

“Let’s go to Hogsmeade to celebrate! The Three Broomsticks! First round is my treat!” Lance suggests and they all cheer in agreement.

Coach Coran reminds them that the equipment still needs to be put away. Lance volunteers, as he is the captain after all. Part of the job. He says he’ll meet them there and not to wait up for him. Keith thinks to go with the others but watches as Lance gathers the brooms. Feels so good to win and he can’t forget that Lance was the first to run over to hug him in his excitement.

Normally, Lance picks up all the brooms at once but he’s left a few behind. Keith waves off the others to grab them so Lance doesn’t have to make a second trip. To lighten the burden as it is. The sooner it’s finished the sooner they can all celebrate. Together.

He brings the brooms into the equipment room just as Lance is setting them on their hooks. Lance turns when he hears him come in. Still beaming at their win. Smiling at Keith and it makes his heart thrum.

He comes over and gives Keith a hardy smack on his shoulders. “That was a killer catch man!”

Keith hangs up the brooms with a shrug. “If you hadn’t told us about the whistle thing she’d have caught me going for it.”

“Still a great catch,” Lance points and leans on a post with a wince. “You should join the others. I got this.”

“Plus, the beater knocked her off-kilter,” Keith brings up. “And you took that hit--”

“Ah, that barely hurt. Couldn’t have it slowing _you_ down,” Lance chuckles and winces again. “Besides, feels like just _one_ broken rib...next to two other broken ribs. I’m in excruciating pain.”

“What?” Keith blinks as the air of the conversation changes.

“I’m actually leaning on this post so I don’t double over in tears,” Lance smiles while flinching.

“What?! Go to the infirmary, you moron!” Keith shouts at him.

“I was gonna as soon as I finished this,” Lance says. He drops the broom in his hand and clutches his side with a pained groan. “But then you cornered me in here and the high from our victory is starting to wear off. I’m seriously about to collapse.”

Keith rushes forward as Lance’s legs nearly give out. Lance hooks an arm around Keith’s shoulder and takes a deep breath to focus. Doesn’t look like there’s any blood. Keith thinks that’s a good thing but Lance won’t stop wincing as he breathes in.

“You need healing,” Keith asks as he adjusts his hold. “Spells or potions.”

“So true. You know or have any?” Lance jokes and Keith shakes his head. “Yeah, that would be too perfect. Guess we better get moving.”

Keith helps him get there. Doesn’t take nearly as long as it would have if Lance had to crawl his way across the castle grounds. He almost expected the Slytherin to joke the whole way but he just takes calming breaths and flinches each time they take some stairs. Finally, they make it to the Hospital Wing ten minutes later.

“Merlin’s beard! What on earth happened?” says the middle-aged woman in a nurse’s apron.

Pomfrey’s assistant. Or her daughter. Possibly both. Doesn’t matter as she looks at the both of them with a displeased frown. She recognizes Keith from the first day and isn’t happy to see him again.

“Quidditch,” Keith explains as he lowers Lance to sit on an empty bed.

“Of course,” she sighs and gestures at his torso. “Let’s see the damage then.”

Lance lifts his shirt to reveal a swollen and purple circle on his right side. It’s almost a perfect imprint of a bludger. The size of a cantaloupe and only swelling more as time passes. Keith can’t believe Lance was jumping around and hugging people with that.

“Bludger,” she nods and presses her fingers to the wound making Lance bite back a groan. “Broken ribs. Two of them. Don’t move.”

She casts _costae emendo_ on his torso a number of times as Lance puffs his cheeks and lets the air out slowly. Keith can see his other hand clenching tight on the sheets. It clearly hurts and badly but he’s trying not to let on how much. Doesn’t want to look like a wuss in front of the other patients.

“You can go on ahead,” Lance nods at him.

“I’ll wait,” Keith says, forcing himself to look away from Lance’s bare midriff. “Party can’t start without you.”

“That’s true,” Lance chuckles and then pinches his eyes shut when pain shoots up his side. He hisses out a breath so he doesn’t start crying.

“I said not to move. That includes talking,” she reminds him, then sends a glare to Keith. “Stop encouraging him.”

“Sorry,” Keith mumbles contritely.

A few minutes later she finishes up. Gives him a potion to drink to encourage the healing. The spell only does a shallow repair job, the potion will fix it further. She can heal the bruises too if he’d like but it’ll take another ten minutes so he declines as he lowers his shirt.

“No running, no jumping, no--”

“I get it, no physical activities,” Lance interrupts, then sighs. “Guess I’ll have to cancel that date tomorrow.”

“You would be thinking about that when you have broken bones,” says the nurse. "Shame on you," she scolds.

“Hey, I’m a hot commodity,” Lance grins and winks playfully at her. “Speaking of, what are you doing next week?”

“Lance. The team is waiting,” Keith huffs, his arms crossed as he pushes off the wall he was leaning on. “You promised everyone a round of drinks.”

“Uh, right,” Lance blinks at Keith and joins him at the door. "Thanks for the healing," he calls over his shoulder as they leave.

They head on down the stairs together. It’s silent for the most part. Once they reach the path to Hogsmeade Keith turns to find Lance smiling at him. And he just won’t stop. It’s a little weird.

“What?” Keith mutters as they walk.

“You said my name,” Lance says. “Actually said it.”

“So?”

“You only call your friends by name,” Lance says with a smirk.

“...I guess,” Keith finally says.

“Thought you didn’t want to be friends with a slimy, evil, snake,” Lance reminds him.

“I don’t,” Keith huffs.

“Hmm,” Lance nods with a disappointed sigh.

“But you’re not any of those things...so...I guess it’s alright.”

Lance can’t believe his ears. What a thing to hear! And coming from Keith! But this is sort of what he was shooting for. Friends of all kinds. If he can make Keith see he’s a good guy, regardless of house, then he can change anyone’s mind. Things are finally looking up.

“I knew you’d come around eventually,” Lance brags with pride and throws an arm around Keith’s neck again as he gestures to the air. “I’m a really cool, you know? Probably the most popular guy at Hogwarts.”

“And humble too,” Keith rolls his eyes but doesn’t shake the arm off him. Besides the fact that he kinda likes it, he gets the feeling Lance would just put his arm back anyway.

“Humble? That’s good right?” Lance asks with a grin.

Keith snorts. “Sure,” he says.

They make it to the pub and the others greet them with cheers. The rest of the team has gotten started without them. Hunk’s ordered a huge plate of freshly cooked fish and chips, doused in vinegar and sprinkled with salt. Pidge has grabbed a bunch of cauldron cakes from the bakery across the way too.

Lance immediately calls for a round of dragon scale ale. The team applauds him and he revels in the sounds of their adulation with a stiff bow.

It’s a regular party and one that Keith’s enjoying far more than the RoR one. Just as much noise and significantly more alcohol but smaller and with people he knows to some degree. With friends, he thinks as Pidge shoves a lager into his hand and clinks the tankards together. He looks at Lance who’s chugging down his cup as Hunk and Serena chant ‘chug’ over and over.

Yeah, friends.

Everyone talks about their favorite parts of the match and you’d think it was official with how the relay all the events with such energy. Even Allura is shouting with the best of them, talking about how many times she nearly knocked people off their brooms and how she can’t wait to do it again. They eat and drink and laugh and for once Keith’s enjoying being a part of a group instead of an outsider.

“Toast captain!” Marcel demands as he lifts his third ale.

“Yeah! Toast!” Hunk agrees and lifts Lance onto the table.

“Okay, okay,” Lance laughs and shakes his cup at them. “Best day ever. You guys are an amazing team. I’m so proud to be your captain.

“Stop being mushy Lance!” Pidge hiccups. “Get to the good stuff!”

“Fine! Fine!” Lance laughs again. “This match was amazing! We flew and fought like dragons! We worked together and BAM! We kicked so much ass! We _owned_ that field!”

“Damn right!” Serena says, banging her fist on the table.

“Let’s keep doing it!” he encourages and raises his drink. “Let’s make the Paladins the scourge of the pitch! Hooya!”

They all cheer and drink. Hunk helps him back off the table so he doesn’t fall on his drunken ass. Then they continue their stories and laughter, hanging onto each other for support. Even Keith finds himself smiling at the camaraderie.

By nightfall, they’ve had five rounds and the tavern kicks the lot of them out. They are well aware of the curfew for Hogwarts students and gently coax them out into the street, sending them back to the castle.

They laugh and stumble and sing the whole way back. Songs of all sorts, two of which are in different languages. One in Scottish by Marcel and the other in Hawaiian from Hunk. Victory songs they claim but it’s not like anyone could tell otherwise. After that, the whole team sings the Hogwarts anthem and not a single one of them in tune.

The way it should be sung according to the history books.

Once they get back it’s time for bed. It’s Wednesday, which means there are still classes tomorrow and though some of them have resigned themselves to a horrible hangover, they still want to _try_ getting some sleep.

The Ravenclaws head up to their tower together, Hunk carrying a groaning Pidge up the stairs. The Hufflepuffs head their way to their dorm near the kitchens. Allura gives them all hugs before leaving which brings a goofy lovestruck smile to Lance’s face. The last three head in the same direction for a while.

Lance walks with the Gryffindors and when it’s time to branch off he stops with a sigh.

“Guess this is where we split,” Lance says. “To the dungeons with me. Gotta tell the selkies about our win. They love Quidditch stories.”

“Good work today McClain,” Serena smirks.

“You two...too? Too many to’s,” Lance chuckles, his words fumbling with inebriation.

“Thanks for the drinks,” she adds.

“I am generous as I am handsome,” he winks and shoots finger guns at them. “Maybe some time you and I can--”

“Lesbian,” she interrupts. “So…”

“Got it,” Lance laughs, message received. “Take care guys. If I’m not in class, it’s only cause I’m dying of alcohol poisoning.”

The three of them chuckle at that. Lance puts his fist out for a bump. Serena gives him one and he turns it to Keith for one too. Keith raises his hand and hits his knuckles to Lance’s with a smirk.

“Night,” he says and turns to go. Shuffling his way to the dungeons on his own while whistling the Hogwarts anthem yet again.

With Lance’s back turned Keith finds himself watching as the Slytherin walks away.

Tonight was so much fun. Lance included him in everything the moment he said his name. Like a switch had been flipped. How many times did Lance hook his arm around Keith? Talk to him? Whispering jokes under his breath so the others wouldn't hear?

Felt so nice and the memory has him sighing with a smile.

“Oh my god,” Serena says stunned. “You’re...you’re into him.”

A moment of panic overtakes his face as he remembers he’s not alone. A fraction of a second later he forces it into a displeased scowl. His brows furrow and he almost glares at her with a huff. He turns and ignores her shocked face.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he grumbles as he leaves her behind.

Keith’s face flushes red in embarrassment as he ascends the stairs. He gives the portrait of the fat lady the password and strides through the main room. A couple of students try to stop and congratulate him on the match. They saw it from the stands and thought his catch was way too cool. He ignores them all and runs straight up the stairs to his room and falls face first into his pillow to hide his face.

It was one thing to have a crush but to have someone say it out loud...does that mean it’s obvious? Can Lance tell? He takes the pillow and puts it over his head with a dismal groan.

God he hopes not!

He doesn’t want Lance knowing he’s crushing on him. They’re finally friends! If Lance thinks all Keith wants is in his pants--it would ruin everything! Lance might never throw his arm around his neck again. Might never nudge him in the halls. Might stop talking to him altogether.

What if Serena _tells_ Lance?

Can’t have that. Maybe he can threaten her into shutting her mouth? He shakes his head. No, he promised Shiro he’d stop doing that sort of thing.

Maybe he can convince her that he’s not interested in Lance like that. That it’s just admiration for their Captain, nothing more. All he needs to do is work harder on that poker face; then she’ll have no reason to bring it up again.

Besides, it’s just a little crush. Nothing serious. Keith’s never had a serious _anything_ with anyone. Infatuation, that’s what it is, and that doesn’t last forever. It’s happened before in secondary school and just like with them it’s a matter of time before it wears off. Before he gets bored and moves on.

It’s decided then.

He’ll give it another week, maybe two. With any luck, everything will back to the way it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	9. The Lovers (Reversed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RAUNCHY CONTENT WARNING! Things get a little spicy in this chapter!

_“[This] reversed can indicate inner conflicts and being at war with yourself rather than with external forces. It suggests disharmony and difficulty in being able to balance your own inner union. Perhaps punishing yourself for something you have done or feel responsible for?”  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Classes are going well again. Keith’s not doing nearly as poorly in Charms now. He’s got a passable grade now instead of failing which is something. When he casts he just remembers the fluid movements that Lance taught him and most of the time it turns out half decent.

Quidditch is going well too. In the past two weeks they’ve had three more matches. They lost to Slytherin but won against Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, even if it was by a narrow margin.

Each time they win they throw another party of sorts but no more dragonscale lagers. Pidge and Lance were nearly dead the following day in class and they’re sure it’s because of that stuff. Now their victory meals are done in the Great Hall with dinner.

Keith only ever eats with them after games, otherwise he keeps to his usual table. He doesn’t want anyone new jumping to conclusions if he hangs with Lance outside of Quidditch related things. Serena still gives off an air of knowing but she hasn’t made another comment about it. Likely to avoid any more scathing words or glares from Keith.

Right now it’s lunch time and he’s watching Lance’s table out of the corner of his eye. Lance has Pidge’s glasses on and is doing an impression of her. Allura laughs a lot, saying it’s ‘spot on’. The little Ravenclaw just stretches her hands to retrieve her specs but her short arms keep her from grabbing them out of Lance’s hands, high above his head. This, of course, makes him flash a grin of victory before returning them.

“You know he’s dating someone now, right?” Serena mentions and bites into an apple.

“Who?” Keith asks, genuinely oblivious to who’s she’s talking about.

“Who do you think? McClain of course,” she rolls her eyes with disbelief.

He is? When did that happen? Keith hasn’t noticed anyone hanging around Lance more than usual.

“He tutored her and she offered to go on a date with him in exchange. That’s her there,” Serena points and then returns to her apple. “Turns out they had fun so now they’re going steady. About a week now.”

“Who cares?” Keith scoffs but looks at the girl with curiosity.

He recognizes her. A Gryffindor girl with long silky black hair and mocha skin. Second-year by the name Inez. Keith’s seen her around the common room with her friends. A bit of a pushy know it all.

She needed tutoring? Keith has a hard time believing that.

Inez approaches Lance's table of friends and Lance stands up to give her an affectionate kiss on her cheek. So it is true. The girl flips her hair and smiles as she takes a seat. She then brings her rose painted lips to his ear and says something that has Lance grinning with a suggestive look on his face.

Ugh. Keith doesn’t want to see this. His appetite is suddenly gone and replaced with annoyance. Or anger. Or disgust. He can’t tell which but it’s making him feel...irritable. So he pushes the plate away and leaves the table without another word, then stalks his way down the halls to find a place to be alone for a moment. A place where he can vent his frustrations in peace.

But everywhere is full of students. The halls, the doorways, the courtyard. He peeks into classrooms as he passes until he finds an empty one. Transfigurations.

“Perfect,” he grumbles and goes inside, closing the door behind him. He even locks it with _colloportus_.

He goes to the closest chair and gives it a hard unrestrained kick. Once. Twice. And on the third time, he splinters the leg from the base. Still angry. Keith scans the room for another target.

There’s a pillow on one of the desks, one that they’ve been trying to turn into a plate in class. Perfect. He gives it a punch. Once. Twice. Three times. It’s holding up better than the chair so he continues with the beatings.

Keith knows why he’s doing this. Jealousy. He’s jealous of that damn girl and he has no right to be.

He decided that day after winning their first match that he’d try to put this behind him. Put Lance behind him. That he’d just bury those feelings with the hope that they’d leave eventually. No point in falling for some guy since he’s got more important things to focus on.

Like his classes. Mock duels to prepare him for competition. The O.W.L. and N.E.W.T exams at the end of his school years. Dammit it all, he’s going to be an Auror one day! But even those reminders haven't stopped him from staring at Lance. Sighing at his smile. Heart pounding when he laughs. Drawing pictures of him. Thinking less than decent thoughts in his bed at night.

“I don’t need this--this--” he growls as he punches the pillow again. It’s starting to tear at the seams but he doesn’t care. “-- _garbage_!”

It explodes with his final strike, goose feathers bursting everywhere and all over. Whoops. They float gently to the floor as Keith makes himself step back and take a breath. Meditative breaths, like Shiro taught him. Deep ones, in through the nose and slowly release through the mouth. He runs through the motions of all the steps.

Unclench his jaw. Relax his shoulders. Breathe. Repeat. Again and again until calm.

“Now take...a moment...to reflect,” he repeats Shiro’s words calmly and tries to compartmentalize his emotions.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. No reason to be upset about Lance’s love life. He’s just _a_ _friend_ and if he’s happy with some girl then Keith should be happy for him too. That’s what Shiro would say. Support your friend because it’s what’s best for them.

Yes, he can do this. He’s Keith Kogane; he can do anything.

He feels relaxed enough to leave now but as he turns to clean up his mess the doorknob rattles. Someone on the other side huffs with annoyance.

“Why’s the door locked?” a girls asks. “McGonagall never locks it.”

“I got it,” says a voice.

That sounds like...Lance. Keith looks at his surroundings in a sudden panic, his meditation wasted as his heartbeat ramps up.

The broken chair. The decimated pillow. No one needs to know he was in here blowing off steam. Especially not Lance. He’ll poke fun. Keith doesn’t have time to clean up and he doesn’t want to have to explain himself. As Lance begins encanting _Alohomora_ he spots an open wardrobe.

Better than nothing.

Keith rushes into it but it won’t close all the way. The latch is busted. He has to pull and hold it closed as the two of them enter the room. Keith covers his mouth as he watches them from the narrow opening.

It really is Lance...and his new girlfriend.

“Hmm, look at that,” Lance points at the pillow mess with a snicker. “Someone’s having a rough day.”

“Who cares?” the girl says. “McGonagall is still in the Great Hall eating with Flitwick. I say we’ve got maybe fifteen minutes.”

She points her wand at the door with a swish. It closes and Lance encants it to lock.

“Alone at last,” he winks at her.

Lance picks her up to seat her on top of a desk and immediately they start making out. Without delay, her hands splay into his short hair pulling him in for wet messy kisses. His own hands squeeze her thighs, spreading them slightly so he can grind in closer to her. She’s pulling on his tie, unknotting it and then tossing it to the ground so she can unbutton his shirt to reach his neck for hickeys.

Should Keith be watching this? No, he definitely shouldn’t but…

He can’t take his eyes away from Lance. Can’t stop listening to every sound he makes. It’s not...it’s not like he’s hurting anything by sitting here watching, right? And he can always look away if it gets to be too much. With that in mind...he follows Lance’s every movement, cataloging it all.

Keith can’t stop looking at the way those caramel hand slips up her skirt, to squeeze the soft firmness of her ass. Lance noses her neck before mouthing along it with lips and tongue. He lets out a heady sigh when she cups his crotch. His grin goes impish as she whispers another suggestion into his ear.

“Hell yeah,” he nods eagerly. “If you want to.”

Lance steps back so she can hop off the desk. Her hands go right to his slacks and yank them open. Any rougher and she’ll pop the buttons clean off. Keith can’t see what she reveals because she drops to her knees and obscures his view with her head. But it’s clear what she’s about to do and Keith swallows as a pang of longing shoots down his body in anticipation.

He should look away now. Keith knows he should. They came in here for privacy, not to be watched in secret. Keith knows morally he should close his eyes and try not to eavesdrop on this...very intimate interaction but...Keith swallows as Lance braces a hand on the desk and the other pets through her hair as she gets started.

He almost gasps at the same time Lance does. That look on his face is...Keith licks his lips and with one hand moves to undo his own belt. He shouldn’t but…it’s not hurting anyone, he tries to justify to himself. No one has to know. 

Keith can feel his hardness straining against his pants and unzips quietly. With a slide of his hand, he palms his erection while looking at Lance’s panting and sighing face. Another quick gesture and he fully exposes his cock for stroking.

“Se siente rico,” Lance moans.

“Lo sé,” she says once she releases his cock for air. “Más adentro?”

Lance eagerly nods at that and she sinks her mouth onto his length again. Deeper this time. Lance closes his eyes with a moan and bites his lip as his brows furrow in pleasure.

Keith could...why does he wish he could be the one doing that? Why can he imagine Lance’s fingers threaded in his dark hair as he bobs over him? 

Lance could even talk to him in Spanish. Keith knows more than a little. Perks of summers in Texas at his dad’s ranch. Keith could even respond in kind. Lance can tell him how good it feels and Keith can be the one asking if he wants him to deepthroat that--

“F-Fuck…” Keith breathes out without a sound.

He bites his lip so he doesn’t make any more noise as he strokes his now dripping cock. Every time Lance says something Keith pretends he’s saying it to him and heat bubbles in his stomach. He strokes quietly in time with Inez’s bobbing head. When Lance’s hands let go of her hair and clench tight on the desks Keith knows he’s about to finish.

Damn, he wants to come with him but he’s already pushing it with his own panting. Any louder and they’ll hear him. Keith stops for a second to stuff the end of his tie into his mouth so his moan won’t be heard when he finishes, then returns his hand to his twitching cock.

“I’m...ah!” Lance bites back as he body shudders. “So close...!”

“Te deseo,” she whispers and Keith repeats phrase in his own mind.

_I want you._

Lance shivers out a moan as he releases into her mouth and Keith bites back his own noise as he comes as well. A steady thick stream of heat goes down his knuckles and makes a mess of the wardrobe floor as he rides out his pleasure in time with Lance.

Keith can’t believe he did this. Watched them as they got off in a classroom. Got off on watching. What kind of freak--

Before they came in he was ready to get over this childish crush but...Keith looks down at himself as the tie unfurls out of his mouth with a panting breath. On his knees. Pants pulled open. Flushed cock going soft in his hands. Come dripping down his knuckles and lightheaded from the high.

Clearly he’s not ready to give up yet. He still wants Lance, just as much as before. Maybe even more now. Fuck.

Inez is standing again and helping adjust his slacks. Lance cups her cheek and kisses her deep, tasting her last meal as it were with a grin. Keith’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. He has to wonder what those lips feel like. Are they as soft as his hands? Does he taste like those chips he likes to eat? What does he smell like? All things Inez knows but Keith can only imagine.

“You can get me tomorrow,” she says with a sly smile. “The astronomy tower is also empty around noon.”

“Like a Hogwarts mile high club,” Lance suggests with waggling brows. “You’re on.”

“Quick, let's get out of here before McGonagall gets back,” she says, pulling him by his arm with a giggle. The leave quickly whilst laughing.

Keith waits a few minutes to tidy himself up. That and to make sure enough time passed for them to have gone. How embarrassing would it be to walk out of the classroom with them still standing outside the door?

Once it’s all quiet he exists the wardrobe. Gone. Does a quick repair spell for the pillow and chair. Not excellent but satisfactory enough that no one will know about the busted items. Then he steps over to where they did the deed with a sigh.

There are marks on the desk where Lance’s sweating palms rested. Keith bites his lip with another sigh as he touches them. So warm. Something catches his eye on the ground and he takes his hand off the desk to investigate.

It’s Lance’s tie. He picks it up off the floor and runs it through his fingers. Smooth as silk, green and silver. Without thinking he raises it to his nose and smells. Some kind of cologne. Smells divine.

If he returns it, Lance will know he was there. If he takes it...that would be a little too weird, even for him.  Besides, Lance will probably realize it’s gone before long and come back for it.

He decides to just leave it on the desk but not before giving it another deep smell. Maybe two. After all, this is probably the closest he’ll ever get to Lance’s neck anyway. After sniffing a final time he shakes his head, suddenly ashamed of his behavior.

God why is he doing this to himself? He's only making it harder for him to let go. Making it harder to regard Lance as just a friend by fantasizing about more. Especially now that he’s...he’s dating someone.

He reluctantly drops the tie on the table and rushes out of the room so he won’t be tempted further but---it feels like the damage is done.

Lunch is almost over and students are making their way to class. Charms is next and he doesn't think he can handle it right now. Normally he’s not one to skip class, mostly because Shiro will make his life miserable with his lectures, but maybe being late just once won’t be too bad. He can't have that perfect face turning in his seat and smiling at him after what he just did.

So he goes to the courtyard to hide behind a hedge. It’s a good spot he discovered while looking for Sumi one day. Low foot traffic and as long as he’s quiet, no one would ever know he was there. Exactly where Keith wants to be while he composes himself before going back to class. He sinks down behind the foliage and drops his face into his hands with a sigh.

What the hell is wrong with him?

He’s never felt this strongly about anyone before. Crushes he’s had, many of them in fact, but getting over them took a matter of days. Especially if the person showed little to no interest in him. Why waste the energy, right? But this is going on for weeks now and Keith’s starting to worry that this one is different.

He catches himself looking over at Lance while he naps in the middle of class. Sometimes he sketches Lance from across the courtyard as he writes his family. Even finds himself gravitating closer to Lance when they talk in the halls. And he doesn’t want to split off to their seats on opposite ends of the classroom when they get there. For fucks sake, Keith wrote a poem about him after a Quidditch match! A poem!

That’s it. It’s hopeless. He’s doomed to a life of tortuous, unrequited feelings. Especially now that Lance is with someone.

Does this mean he...he missed his chance?

Keith swallows back an exasperated groan as he shrinks in to hold himself. Heat pricks at the corners of his eyes and trickles down his cheeks in warm rivers.

He tells himself to just accept it. That it would never have worked anyway. Not after their brawl that first day. You don’t just forget someone trying to beat you senseless. How could Lance look at him as anything other than a rival turned unlikely friend? See a future romance when before there had only been hate?

Eventually he'll get over Lance. Sure, it hurts now but...at least no one’s here to see him cry about it.

“There you are!” says a voice above him and Keith goes rigid clutching his knees tight.

Of course it’s Lance. The one person he doesn’t want to see. Why would it be anyone else? How does Lance always seem to find him when he’s feeling like shit? He doesn’t move to acknowledge the Slytherin as he steps closer.

“Flitwick said it was weird you weren’t on time. You never miss class,” Lance says while peeking around the hedge. “Volunteered to look. Earned me five points. Never would have found you if it weren’t for your cat.”

The aforementioned creature lets out a deep yowl before cleaning her paws.

He’s not surprised. Sure, Sumi guided Lance there. Probably has nothing to do with the fact that she wants her nice, cozy lounging spot back and this is the surest way to kick him out of it. If she cared about him at all she’d let him wallow alone in misery for a bit longer.

“You okay?”

“Just leave me alone,” Keith sniffs and clears his throat.

“Noticed a pattern with you. Someone asks if you’re alright. You get rude to push them away and then you blurt out the problem like five seconds later,” Lance snorts, standing over him. “You either want someone to help you or not; you can’t have it both ways.”

Keith raises his face, ready to give one of his classic glares. That always gets rid of unwanted people. He tries but instead of intimidating he just looks somber and pathetic. Wet cheeks and red puffy eyes that he’s wiping with his sleeve.

Lance blinks back in shock. He wasn’t expecting this at all.

“Oh man,” Lance says with a guilty frown. He eyes the area before kneeling down behind the hedge with him to put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s up man? Stressing out about class again? I thought you were doing--”

“It’s personal,” Keith interrupts and shakes off the hand despite how warm and comforting it is. He doesn’t want to indulge in something he knows he can’t have. “Nothing to bother yourself about.”

Lance’s mouth tilts into a smile. “Personal? Girl trouble? I’m actually pretty good at dating advice,” he says and takes a seat next to Keith. His shoulder is touching Keith’s and now there’s no room to move away. “Need help asking her out? Or him? Shouldn’t assume right?”

Keith wishes he could laugh at the irony. If he tried it would just come out strangled and pathetic. Instead, he buries his face into his knees and surrounds it all with his arms again.

Lance can’t help with this problem. He is the problem. But Keith guesses he _could_ talk about it with Lance provided he leaves out names. Maybe he just needs his crush to tell him how pointless it is too. It’ll be easier to move on if Lance squashes his dreams before they can get off the ground.

“Him,” Keith mumbles. “He’s...oblivious. Doesn’t know I’m interested. And now he’s...unavailable.”

“Mmm, yeah. That would be a problem,” Lance says, pinching his chin with a pursed frown. He turns to Keith with a half smile. “Seems like a dumb question but...are you guys at least friends?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Keith shrugs and sniffs. “He says we are.”

“Okay, that’s good!” Lance says with enthusiasm. “Just stay friends and if things don’t work out with his current guy, start hinting that you’re into him. Drop clues that you want to be more than friends.”

“How?” Keith asks, still feeling hopeless.

“You mean, what kind of hints? Like uh, friendly touches that last just a _little_ too long. Those always get the point across,” Lance chuckles then snaps as a sudden thought occurs to him. “Oh! Invite him to watch one of the scrimmage matches! Then go get drinks after, just you and him.”

“He’s busy after class,” Keith lies.

“Ah, okay. Then uh, do a study group with him on the weekend. Sit close, copy notes, and whisper a compliment. Something you like about him,” Lance suggests. “His hair or his eyes or something. Hell, just tell him you like the way his ass looks.”

Keith’s face warms with heat at the thought.

“I can’t say that,” Keith says, shaking his head as he hides.

“Why not? I would...”

“I can’t...I’m not great at...articulating my emotions. And that’s on a good day,” Keith says and Lance hums in agreement there. “I get excited...and nauseous--at the same time. I say something like that to his face I’ll throw up on his shoes...”

Lance bursts, starts laughing and just can’t stop. The image of Keith throwing up on some guy he likes has him bellowing and snorting while clutching his stomach. Keith finds himself smiling behind his arms. He never thought himself capable of making anyone laugh like that, let alone Lance.

What a great sound. It rings so well in his ears he wishes it would never stop.

“Sorry. Okay well,” Lance says, wiping laughter tears from his eyes as he catches his breath. “Bad idea. Don’t do that. Vomit doesn’t make for a great segway into flirting.”

“No kidding,” Keith snorts and finally raises his head but avoids looking Lance’s way. “Anyway, I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve already got. Best to leave it as it is.”

“What? And forgo a chance at romance? No!” Lance disagrees. “If you’re really worried about it then send him a note."

“A note?”

“Yeah! Write it all out, everything you feel and whatever. Sign it anonymously. Then get it to him,” Lance explains. “That way you get to say what you feel without it changing anything. No vomit either, a plus.”

“No one does love notes anymore,” Keith scoffs.

“Are you kidding? Look at these!” Lance says as he rummages through his robes and pulls a couple of envelopes from a pocket. “I got four--oops that one’s hate mail from someone on the Ravenclaw House team--nevermind that one. Three. I got three this week alone. I think I’ve gotten over three dozen since the semester started. You haven’t gotten _any_?”

Keith can’t believe it. There really are three love letters in his hands and all from different people. Some are pink and they all smell like they were drenched in perfume.

He shouldn’t be surprised that there are others falling for him. Lance is a charming guy who only gets more popular with each passing day. Of course he’s getting fan mail and love notes from admirers. Keith’s hardly special in that regard.

“And don’t just send him one either!” Lance says resting a hand his shoulder and shaking the letters. “Send a couple. Maybe you’ll click. Once he’s single again he’ll want to meet. By then you can talk to him about it in person--without throwing up on him,” he jokes.

Keith indulged in this conversation with the hope that Lance would agree on how hopeless it was but...he’s done the opposite. Lance has bolstered him with encouragement.

A love note, huh?

It does sound like a good idea. He can say everything he wants to say, get it all out of his head and onto paper. He’s always been better about writing his thoughts than voicing them.

When done, he can just mail it away, anonymously, so there’s no risk in damaging his newly formed friendship. No talking necessary. Lance wouldn’t even have to know it was him, especially since he seems to get plenty of other notes.

Maybe it’ll help him get over the Slytherin. If nothing else, it’ll at least ease some of this stress from keeping it bottled in. Keith manages a small nod.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” Keith shrugs and wipes his face one last time before standing. Lance joins him. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You owe me a lager,” Lance nudges with a smirk. “Consultation fee from the Love Doctor, you know? All this stellar advice comes at a price.”

“Right,” Keith rolls his eyes with a snort.

“Ooh, but not that dragon scale stuff...I want to have a stomach by the time I graduate,” Lance grimaces at the memory.

“Sure,” Keith snorts, finally able to look at him again.

“Come on. Let’s get back to class,” Lance waves over his shoulder.

*****

Keith can’t believe he’s doing this. His fingers dance on the edge of the envelope in his pocket, shaky and sweating. It’s been over a week since that talk with Lance...should be long enough to throw off any suspicion that the letter is coming from Keith, right? Right?

He bites his lip, looking at the desk Lance sits in in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It’s empty but not for much longer. The class will be shuffling in soon. If he doesn’t leave it now then this will be the third time he’s balked today. He pulls it out and eyes the scrawling cursive on the outside.

_To: Lance._

God, is he really doing this?

Just do it fast, he tells himself. Like ripping off a bandage or pulling out a bowtruckle thorn. The faster the better. So he strides quickly to Lance’s desk and shoves it in. Not too far in or he won’t spot it. Leaves just the edge out.

Perfect. Now leave it alone.

Keith goes immediately to his own desk and drops into his seat, burying his nose into a book as people come in. His feet tap nervously as the students filter in.

Lance is here today but he’s at the end of the group, talking animatedly with Pidge and Hunk. Great, means he won’t have time to gauge who was in the room before he showed up. He’ll never guess it’s Keith then. Makes Keith feel safer and safer with each passing second.

Lance splits off from his friends and takes his seat, turning backward in the chair to talk to the person behind him. They still have a few minutes before Shiro calls the class to attention, why not gab? Keith tries not to glance over there each time Lance leans back in his chair and bumps his desk.

When? When will he...?

The Hufflepuff sitting behind Lance points behind him and he turns curiously to peer into his desk. He’s spotted it! His hand reaches out to take it but Shiro announces that it’s time to start. Keith curses under his breath when Lance sits up and faces forward, the untouched note still sitting in his desk.

*****

It’s not until halfway through the class that Lance props up a book on his desk to hide behind. Then he slips his hand into the desk and nonchalantly pulls out the envelope. Eyes roam the outside with curiosity, checking the nearby desks to guess where it might have come from but he gives up with a shrug.

Carefully and quietly he opens it, unfolding it to read its contents.

_Lance,_

_This is not the first secret admirer note you’ve ever read but...it is the first one I’ve ever written. To anyone. It’s the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done. Already it’s taken me an hour to write this much. My pulse still hasn’t slowed since I started. Can’t decide if I’m scared or excited, maybe a little of both._

Lance gives an amused smile, biting his lip with a silent chuckle as he rests his cheek in his palm to continue reading.

_You caught my eye the first day of class and not in a good way. Your first impression was...I’ll just say it...you seemed like an arrogant Bolivian Balloon-toad._

Lance snorts out a short laugh but shrinks down behind his book to hide when Shiro shoots him a look. He keeps reading.

_But I’ve learned you’re not what you seem. You’re confident and smart. I’ve seen you play on the pitch and you’re a great leader.  You think so quick on your feet and on a broom you’re even quicker. It’s easy to see why your whole team thinks so highly of you._

_You’re even a nice guy. Charming and kind without effort, even when you don’t have to be and to those who really don’t deserve it. Something I struggle with. It’s admirable._  
  
_I guess that’s why I’m writing this. I admire you too, in more ways than one, and I wanted to let you know._

Lance’s smile softens as he reads further.

 _Normally, I’d just tell you, face to face. I’ve never been a chicken by nature but when it comes to you I freeze up. I’m still not sure why. Guess, I’m afraid of what you’ll say. I know you’re dating someone and this isn’t to change that, but could we be friends?_  
  
_If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Just throw this letter in the trash and I’ll never bother you again._

_Either way, let me know._

_Best wishes, a cowardly lion_

Lance sits back with another chuckle and pleased smile as his cheeks tinge pink. What a cute letter. Reads like an awkward guy but the handwriting is really nice. Could be a shy girl he supposes. Let them know? How is he--oh wait. There’s a postscript.

_P.S. This is duoscribo parchment. Anything you write on it will show up on its twin sheet._

Duoscribo? That stuff’s insane. The sheets have to be individually charmed with a Protean charm by a charms master. High-level stuff. Either this guy knows some intense charms spells or he paid a pretty galleon for this. Either way, they went to great lengths to get a timely reply.

There’s not much room at the bottom but Lance clicks his pen. He scribbles in his best penmanship, which isn’t great but it’s legible at least. Keith spots him writing on it out of the corner of his eye and casually flips open to his textbook where his copy is stuck between the pages. He waits, heart thumping out of his chest.

What’s he going to write? What if he says no? What if he says yes?! Damn it...feels like he’s in middle school again. Before his eyes, letters start appearing on the page.

**Lion,**

**This has to be the cutest love note I’ve ever gotten. You’re so blunt, it’s adorable.** **  
** **I’d love to be friends with you. Can’t wait to hear from you again.**

**With warm affection, Lance**

**P.S. Why would I ever throw out such a heartfelt letter that you worked so hard on? I’m keeping it forever and you can’t stop me! ;)**

Keith can’t believe it. He didn’t tank this. His heartbeat slows, relaxing in his chest and he feels a smile forming on his face. It turned out alright and Lance _wants_ to hear from him again.

Maybe this isn’t so bad, having a crush that is. And what a way to strengthen their friendship. They can get closer and Keith doesn’t have to mess it up with talking. Then when all’s said and done he can reveal himself. Easy.

He closes the textbook and lets out a sigh as he returns his attention to the lecture. Every few minutes he glances over at Lance, who’s rereading the note again with a soft smile and not listening to a single word Shiro is saying.

*****

For the past week, Lance has started checking his desks in every class, every day. He’s still not sure how he keeps missing the person leaving the notes.

He gets one every other day. Most of the time they’re short and not on duoscribo pages. One way notes complimenting him on a job well done in class or on the field. Or it’s advice on potions or hexes. But sometimes, like today, Lion leaves him a practically blank sheet of the charmed parchment. Those are the days Lance looks forward to most.

Lance has come to call it Correspondance Day. Usually, he finds a nice spot in the courtyard away from noise and people to write back and forth. The first time Lance got a blank sheet he asked a lot of questions of his admirer.

 **What house are you in? Year?**  
**What’s your favorite class?**  
**Do you play Quidditch or just watch?  
** **Are you a boy or a girl?**

From their correspondence, he’s figured out that Lion is a ‘he’ and while he’s a year older than Lance, he’s still a first year. Courtesy of starting school a year late. He’s in a different house though. Finding out he’s a Gryffindor isn’t that surprising considering how he signed off on his first letter. So he's come to call him Lion.

Lance’s admirer doesn’t have a favorite class but he does best in Defense Against the Dark Arts and moderately okay in Potions and Herbology. Sometimes he plays Quidditch but he admits to watching Lance play a lot. Hasn’t missed a single one of Lance’s games.

Lion is so mysterious and Lance is intrigued to say the least. Part of him wants to know who they are but the other part enjoys the thrill of the unknown.

 **So you watch the games? I haven’t noticed anyone that’s been there for all of them.  
** _I’m very discreet._  
**Clearly, or I’d know who you were already. Think we’re any good?  
** _Thanks to you. Your plays are clever, but some of them are a little over-ambitious._  
**That would be the Slytherin in me. ;)  
** _Do you want to be a pro Quidditch player?_  
**That’s the dream. And I’ll do anything to achieve it. Of course, I need to specialize in something while here. I’m thinking Charms.  
** _Why not? You’re really good at them._  
**Does that make me a** **snake** **charmer? ;)  
** _You do have an effect on people._  
**Even you?**

The long pauses like this always make Lance smile. It’s clear Lion likes him, more than he hints. It’s not just admiration and he gets the feeling if Lance were single he’d be more forward about it. When it takes him this long to respond he thinks the poor guy is trying to regain his composure. Or trying to remind himself that they’re just penpals.

Eventually, he answers.

 _Yeah, you do_ .  
**How so?  
** _~~That’s~~...it’s stupid._  
**Come on. You can tell me.  
**_I...draw a lot. Write poetry. Stupid stuff like that. I throw most of them away._

Lance blushes at that. Poetry? Because of Lance?

 **I make you feel like writing poetry? Man, my girlfriend doesn’t even do that.  
** _I know, it's dumb._  
**Are they any good? Your drawings and poems?  
** _~~No.~~ ~~Maybe.~~  I don’t know. I don’t show them to people._  
**Why? Are they naughty? ;)  
** _No, most of them are just...observations. Feelings._  
**Then share them sometime.**

There’s another long pause but this time Lance wonders if it’s because Lion’s worried about overstepping the friendship line. He made it clear that he doesn’t want to interfere with Lance’s current romantic endeavors. But a little flirting never hurt anyone. And Inez doesn’t mind that Lance is flirty with everyone, says it makes him even cuter.

 _I’ll think about it._  
**Running out of space. Will you be watching the match on Tuesday?  
** _I’ll be there. Don’t use the beater/chaser diversion play with the Ravenclaws._  
_They won’t fall for it. Not after last match._  
**Suggestions?  
** _Head on with them. Hawkshead attacking formation but with one high and the other lower._  
_You can drop the quaffle to the lower player if it gets rough._  
**Like a Porskoff ploy. Nice. Maybe you should join our team. Be a Chaser with me. ;)  
** _I’m happy where I’m at. I’ve got work to do. Later Lance._  
**Later.**

Lance looks over the page and smiles fondly at it. He wonders what kind of person Lion is. Knows an awful lot about Quidditch but he doesn’t want to be on a team? What a shame. He has such a good eye. Could use someone like that around on game days. Like a team manager.

He folds the paper up and slips it into the envelope that carries all of Lion’s correspondence.

Lately, they’re the only ones he keeps on him. The notes from other admirers litter the bottom of his travel trunk in his room. Some of them unopened. They’re just not as interesting as Lion’s. Sure he writes about Lance a lot but he writes about himself just as much. It’s not all head over heels, heart eyes and obsessed like the others.

He’s taken to reading them when he’s bored or down after losing a match. Makes him feel better since his girlfriend couldn’t care less about Quidditch. He even shows them to the selkies, taps out their contents so they can listen. They love it, treat it like a drama they don’t want to miss, those gossip mongers. Always asking for the next installment.

Over the course of those days, he notices a pattern in the notes. If he shows up later to class, notably Charms or DADA there’s sometimes a note in his desk. If he’s on time or early he doesn’t get them, so he’s taken to slowing his steps between classes so Lion won’t miss a chance to leave him one.

It isn’t until Tuesday that he gets a special one.

Arriving later to class, just as Shiro’s about to get started, he reaches into the desk absently feeling for where Lion typically leaves notes. His fingers find and pull something...different out. He turns it in his hand and looks curiously at it.

It’s not like his other ones. They’re usually small and in envelopes but this one...

It’s larger, just a sheet folded in half. The paper feels thicker too. Thinks for a second that maybe it’s not from Lion but it has a certain unidentifiable smell to it, like a lot of his letters. The edges look torn. A rush job or something on the fly? He scans the room but no one’s paying attention to him so he flips it open and is stunned by the contents.

A picture. Or rather, it’s a drawing. Thick black lines made with a quill and the subject is Lance. He’s on a broom, his arm raised high for a cheer and a bracing grin on his face. Thin black scratch marks bring in some depth, creating shadows and patterns on the sky and his robes.

It looks so good. And look at that! It’s moving! Like a tiny movie with only three frames repeating. He just pumps his fist and shouts a cheer as his robes flip in the wind.

“Holy shit,” he whispers to himself and takes it in again. “Amazing…”

There’s writing at the bottom. A poem, Lance realizes.

 _Windy afternoon_  
_A bracing, sunny smile flies  
in spite of fierce gales._

His face warms and flushes after reading it. It’s so striking, the image it evokes. Lance reads it again, leaning forward and mouthing the words.

Even if there wasn’t a drawing, he could almost feel the exact moment it conveys. Two games ago, when that gale of wind blasted through their match. Lance used the force to increase speed and score a goal. He was more than proud of his accomplishment. Probably looked...just like this.

“Mr. McClain,” says a voice from the front and he visibly starts, closing the note.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Your thoughts on the matter?” Shiro asks, leaning against his desk.

Lance looks at the board and doesn’t recognize the notes. He hasn’t been writing any. Something about banshees from the looks of it and means to deal with them. But he has no idea what the question was.

No reason to panic. He’s gotten out of worse situations than this.

“H-Hard to say, lots of people have differing opinions on it. Don’t know if I could, uh, answer without someone taking offense,” Lance tries to stall and eyes someone nearby who looks like they’ve been scribbling out notes. Pidge shoots him a thumbs up under the desk. “But I think Pidge is pretty versed. She’d explain it better than me without starting a riot.”

Christ, he hopes that works. That’s usually the symbol to show she can cover for him. He’ll owe her later in the form of more terrible Charms notes.

Shiro doesn’t look impressed, as if he knows a deferring tactic when he sees one, but he doesn’t call Lance out on it. Instead, he turns his gaze to Pidge and addresses her. Maybe to get a two-for-one detention deal if she’s not ready.

But Pidge is always ready.

“Ms. Holt? Same question,” he nods.

“Lance is right, it’s a touchy subject. While banshees are dangerous there’s no need to develop a spell specifically to harm or kill one. Some have killed people, this is true but how to punish that? They can’t die and some are debatably of human intelligence while others aren’t,” she explains, still giving him the thumbs up under the table. “You’ll find schools of thought split on whether or not they are no better than animals. Some think trying to kill them to be no different than when we cull wolves from a forest. So they figure, why not try coming up with something that will end future incidents permanently? For now, the most we can hope to do is banish them to areas without people with wards to keep them in but some would say that’s cruel and insensitive to their intelligence.”

“Interesting Ms. Holt. Ten points to Ravenclaw,” he nods with a smile but gives Lance a knowing glance. “Next time I’d like to hear your thoughts, Mr. McClain. Moving on. Turn to page eighty-two.”

Lance lets out a deep breath and relaxes. That was a close one. He takes out his notebook and quickly scribbles out some chicken scratch from the notes on the board, this time listening as Shiro talks. But more than once he sneaks a quick peek at the picture again with a smile.

The detail...it’s simple without being plain. Skillful in a way that suggests years of practice. But Lance cares more about the poem.

Smiling despite fierce gales.

Feels just too perfect. Lion really does have good eyes to be able to see that from the stands. The words capture him so well. He can’t wait to show it to the team. They’re going to be so jealous.

Lance wonders if it’s duoscribo paper but doubts it. Doesn’t have that tingling edge to it that he gets when he feels something magical. Bummer. He’ll just have to wait and thank Lion on their next Correspondance Day.

For now, he gives it one more look and puts it away in this robe before it can get him into trouble again. Costing-Slytherin-points kind of trouble.

But for another poem like that...he wouldn’t mind losing a few points.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Give it a kudos! Really like it? Leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
> Don't know what to say? Tell me your favorite part. Or your favorite line. Leave nothing but hearts. Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that stuff and I'm no exception!
> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	10. The Ace of Wands (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Wednesday my dudes aaaaaaAAAAAAhhhhhHHHHH!

_“Your eyes have been opened to a whole new world and you are now very excited about the possibilities and the opportunities that are available to you...It is but a seed that is yet to grow into something more solid or sustainable…You are being offered an opportunity that shows great promise but it will be up to you to make the most of it and to maximise the potential for the longer-term.”    ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Lance scores yet another goal and slams Serena a high five in passing. He signals them for the Hawkshead formation and everyone lines up in their respective places. Within minutes they have another goal to their name. Lance hoots with victory, slapping more high fives to his players with a grin.

The Slytherin's been on fire the entirety of the match and Keith has to wonder if it’s thanks to him. Or rather, thanks to the note he sent.

Earlier when he left that drawing and poem Keith was near ready to have a panic attack. He was so worried Lance would think it cheesy and stupid that he asked Shiro to be excused for a moment. To use the restroom, of course. Instead, he lingered outside the door, peeking in at Lance with a building nervousness in his gut.

Keith needn’t have worried. The look on Lance’s face after opening it...the way he read the words to himself with wonder and awe...There’s no doubt in Keith’s mind that Lance was struck by it. That he liked it. And that warmed Keith to his core and settled his churning stomach. 

He returned to the class after that and took his seat just as Shiro called on the dazed Lance to answer a question he clearly wasn't ready to answer. Keith felt a little guilty for distracting him. Felt terrible that Lance almost got in trouble but, in classic form, the Slytherin managed to worm his way out with that silver tongue of his.

After that, Lance did nothing but beam and smile at everyone. He even did alright in potions for once. Still messed up his concoction. Gave his partner purple boils on her neck but at least it didn’t smell terrible and Honerva was able to fix it right up. Progress.

And even on the pitch, he can't stop smiling. When Quidditch practice ends Lance jumps off his broom with a whistle and starts gathering up the rest of the brooms. The match ends in a tie but with how Lance goes around grinning you'd think they’d won. And everyone notices.

“What's got you in such a good mood,  McClain?” asks Serena, her arm hooked around Marcel’s neck.

It's like he was ready and waiting for someone to ask. He drops the brooms without a thought and rummages in his robe.

“This!” he says pulling out the paper to show them as they gather around.

“I didn't know you could draw, Lance,” Hunk hums while reaching out to look at it. Lance doesn’t let Hunk relinquish it from his grasp and holds it just out of grabbing distance.

“ _I_ didn't draw this,” he snorts and turns to show it to Keith and Pidge. “I have this penpal and we've been chatting for a while. He did it. The poem too. Isn't it great?”

Keith avoids looking at it at first. The last thing he needs is a second chance to look at his work. He always finds something he doesn’t like and wishes he could change afterward. Like right now he’s seeing that the broom is too big and the shading on his robe is off. Rookie mistakes he didn’t catch because he’d been in such a nervous rush to finish it and throw it in his desk.

“I guess,” Keith shrugs, trying to feign disinterest.  “It's not amazing. Amateur at most.”

Lance scoffs, personally offended on Lion’s behalf and takes the drawing away from his view. Turns away as if protecting it from any further rude comments. He folds it up and carefully puts it back in his robe before turning back, hands on his hips.

“Like you could draw better,” Lance huffs. “You’re just jealous he drew me instead of you.”

“Yeah, Keith’s so jealous,” Pidge rolls her eyes. “You can just see it in his _extremely indifferent_ face.”

The others laugh as Lance looks into the stands at those who were watching. He’s hoping to see a familiar unfamiliar face. Looking for Lion but he sighs, semi-disappointed that he still can’t figure it out. Wouldn’t he know the moment he saw him? Feels like he should.

“I wonder if he...saw the Hawkshead formation play,” Lance mumbles and touches the spot where his pocketed notes reside.

“If he was here, then he saw it,” Keith huffs. “Why does it matter?”

“It was his idea. I wanted him to know I listened,” Lance answers and looks down somberly at the grass. “I get the feeling...no one talks to him. Or listens.”

Keith swallows and avoids looking at that face. That’s more accurate than he likes to admit.

Yes, he’s hard up for good talk. It’s always been that way. Didn't have many friends thanks to his less than stellar personality. His upbringing wasn’t particularly conversational where his parents were concerned. They were both so busy. And the adults always had the floor when there were gatherings because...well, he was a kid.

What could a child contribute to debates?

So he learned not to bother with it. Only spoke if he had something meaningful to say. Something valuable to offer. Which meant Keith used lots of nods and shrugs to answer questions but no real conversations.

But with Lance, finally someone wants to hear what he has to say and it thrills him like nothing else. Kind of pitiful that Lance can tell through their writing. Maybe he needs to chill on the letters for a while so he doesn’t seem so desperate for conversation? Hate for Lance to think he’s needy. Or pathetic. Keith crosses his arms and frowns.

“I’m sure he saw it,” Keith tells him. “There were a lot more people today. Probably watching you now.”

That makes the bright smile return to Lance’s face which in turn relieves Keith. The captain dusts his robes before chuckling.

“I hope you’re right,” Lance says. “I brought a bunch of snacks again. Think if I threw out an invite to the people in the stands, he might come sit and eat with us?”

“Maybe,” Keith shrugs. “If he’s there.”

Lance grins and makes a run for the stands. He waves and calls out to the fans who cheer as he reaches them. Hams it up with a couple of bows. A few shake his hand and pat his shoulder as he talks to them all.

Did they enjoy the game? Of course, they loved it. They wish they were real matches. Do they want to come eat with the team? Of course they do. Lance turns and shoots Keith two ecstatic thumbs up to which Keith returns with a stoic thumbs up of his own. Doesn’t take much to put Lance back into a good mood.

“So are we eating on the field again?” Hunk asks as he grabs up brooms. “We’ll need more than his snacks.”

“I’m not doing a food run,” Serena says and plops down on the grass, kicking back with her hands behind her head. “I did it last time.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll go,” Allura volunteers and Marcel decides to join her.

“I’ll come too,” says Keith.

He can grab drinks. Nothing against the beverage that Lance brings but there’s never enough and it's so sugary that he just ends up more thirsty than when they started. Best to be prepared with backup drinks.

Lance returns to the field to help clean up with Hunk and he has nearly five students in tow. Two of them are guys and he has to wonder if Lance is certain one is Lion. Both of them are Gryffindors but they’re second years. He doubts Lance knows that though and he’s already starting up one of his signature stories.

Better make the trip fast, he doesn’t want to miss anything good.

Together, Keith and the other team members head to the Great Hall and grab a few items from the tables. People have already started in on their dinner and hardly take any notice of the three of them gathering a few things here and there out of the bowls.

Allura takes a big empty bowl and puts a couple different things in it. Fried chicken, then scooping roasted potatoes in on the side. Carson grabs a bowl of green beans no one’s touched and a couple of plates no one will miss.

Keith snatches up two pitchers with liquids in them. No idea what they are but one smells like apples. Pidge can transfigure them some cups from grass or coins so no need for tankards. Before he follows the rest of them out he notices someone he’s seen before.

Inez. Lance’s girlfriend.

She’s sitting at her usual table and checking the clock on the wall. Her fingers twist in her long curls as she sips from a glass. Looks like she’s gone the extra mile with her makeup and hair too. She then looks at the clock again and turns with a frowning pout. Is she waiting for a classmate or is she...waiting for Lance?

Should he--Allura calls to him and says to hurry up. He clutches the pitchers tight and follows the rest of them back to the field, not giving her another thought.

He hears Lance before he sees him. Laughing away at something someone said. Once Keith gets there with the others he sees he’s leaned back on his elbows, legs splayed out, and still snickering in the grass. Bright teeth gleaming as another laugh erupts out of him.

Damn, why is he so handsome? 

Now Keith wants to draw him again. He can even feel a poem knitting itself together in his mind at the image. How’s that memory charm go again? The one for recalling events? He’s been trying to practice it so his drawings come out more accurate. That way he won’t get caught staring for too long. As he takes a seat with the others and passes the pitchers around, he knows he’ll be trying the spell again tonight.

They sit and eat. Everyone talks about the match at first. About the close calls including that moment where Hunk nearly got knocked through a goal post. Luckily, he has a strong grip.

Pidge talks a little with the other Ravenclaws about a curse-breaker book she’s been reading and a secret project she’s working on. It’s clearly to break a curse on an object but she won’t reveal what it is. Says if everything goes well it’ll be an end of the year surprise.

The sun starts setting and conversations return to classes and jokes. Lance starts telling one, a story about his brothers and an incident they caused in Varadero. His hands gesture excitedly as he goes, keeping everyone enthralled and eager for the conclusion, but then something happens. His hands still as his attention is stolen.

There’s someone at the end of the field. Dark hair and crossed arms.

“Oh shit,” Lance whispers. “What’s today?”

“Thursday,” Pidge answers.

“I’ll be right back,” he says as he scrambles to his feet and runs across the field.

If it’s an argument, it’s a pretty quiet one. They can’t hear it from the other side of the field. The only time Lance isn’t loud is when he’s in trouble it seems. There’s a couple of gestures but they’re calm. Her’s are fractionally more expressive making it clear that she’s less than pleased about being stood up.

Once it’s finished Lance leans in and gives her a kiss on her cheek plus an apologetic look. She sighs and relaxes her posture, forgiving him with a kiss on his cheek too before waving him away to go hang out with his friends. He takes her waving hand and gives it another little kiss with a smile before taking off back across the field to return to his group.

“Okay, so where was I? They already used the shaver on the dog, right?” Lance asks as he takes his seat back among the others.

“Everything good?” asks Hunk as he looks behind him to where Inez was. She’s already left.

“What? Oh, that? Yeah, we’re good,” Lance assures them. “Just got our schedules mixed up. It’s my first offense and I’m super cute so all’s forgiven.”

Keith wonders why he didn’t just invite his girlfriend to join them but he remembers Lance mentioning something about her not liking sports. Finds them boring. And all Quidditch people want to talk about is Quidditch. She’d hate it. Seems like something that might become more of a problem the more often Lance plays.

Lance finishes his story and has them all in stitches. Even Keith manages a few quiet chuckles at it. The sun's long gone and so is the food. It’s time to return the dishes to the Hall and get back inside. Some of them still have studying to do as well. Lance knows he sure does.

Once everything is back where it should be everyone heads to their respective houses. Lance still walks with Keith and Serena since they have to go in the same direction for a bit. That’s when he pulls the sheet out again to look at it.

How many times has he opened it today, just to read the poem again?

“You really like that drawing, huh?” Serena asks.

“I like the poem more. No one’s written me poetry before,” Lance admits with a smile. “It’s amazing. Think I’ll pin it to my headboard.”

“Should you do that? What about your girlfriend?” she brings up.

“What about her?” Lance asks with a raised brow.

“Won’t she get mad that you’re writing his dude who clearly has the hots for you?” Serena inquires. “She might think you like him.”

Keith pretends he’s not listening. That he doesn’t care. But man, he cares so much. He likes hearing Lance talk so positively about him. He likes thinking maybe, just maybe, Lance will think of Lion as a viable option romantically and in turn think of Keith as an option too. Not that he has the courage to reveal himself quite yet...but the thought is still nice.

Lance thinks about her point for a second but shrugs with ambivalence.

“So he has a crush on me, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate his gifts,” Lance says. “Besides, Inez could care less who I flirt with as long as I keep my hands to myself. I can handle that. Never even met this guy in person, that’s as keeping-my-hands-to-myself as I can get.”

“But if you did meet?” Serena wonders.

“Serena, it’s like you don’t know me at all,” Lance says with a sultry wink. “I may be a shameless flirt but I’m wholly loyal and nothing but a perfect gentleman.”

Something about that disappoints Keith as much as it pleases him. Lance would never go behind Inez’s back with anyone. He’s faithful and true. That’s a good quality to have but he wishes that faith was in Keith instead. He feels that warm ember of jealousy starting to burn in his heart again. Thankfully they’re almost at the parting point.

“I will admit though…” Lance says looking at the picture with a smile. “This guy...he’s hella romantic. Wish my flirt arsenal included art and poetry. If I was single and he ever got some courage...I’d trip over my size elevens just to get his number.”

Keith feels that burning heat cool down but then a different warmth pulses through his chest to replace it. Turns into a fluttering excitement in his stomach at the implication that Lance wouldn’t be able to resist Keith if he had the confidence to follow through on his feelings.

That’s a good thing right? A sign that he shouldn’t give up yet?

There’s always the chance that Lance might be single again and then...Keith could try. He just has to be patient. Isn’t that something Shiro’s always trying to pound into his skull? For a chance with Lance...he could manage it right?

Time to split and Lance divvies out his signature fist bumps with praise on their work today. Keith doesn’t stick around to watch him go. He immediately heads up the stairs, rushing to reach his room. There’s a memory charm he needs to practice and a drawing to scribble out...as well as a poem to top it all off.

And all of it with a pleased smile on his face.

*****

A new week passes by so quickly. It’s hard to believe he only starting writing letters to Lance a month ago. Now he sends a full letter multiple times a week, a sheet of duoscribo twice a week, and a poem every two to three days.

On Correspondence day, Lance thanked him for the first poem, complimented his creativity, and even asked if he’d send another. So Keith’s been doing it ever since. He’s written so many at this point, has them piled up in a chest in his room. He could send Lance a poem every other day and never run out. So he slips them into Lance’s desk every once in a while on days when he doesn’t have time for a full letter.

Keith used to worry about sending them but now he enjoys it. Especially when Lance does nothing but talk about them to his friends. Says he pins them onto a corkboard next to his bed now. So he can read them when he’s feeling down.  Sometimes he keeps one on him on test days to keep his spirits up.

Just hearing that is enough to make Keith’s heart near burst.

Most of the time he sends simple poems. None of them overly romantic.

He has ones that _are_ romantic, very romantic even, but he’s seriously debating on throwing them into the common room fire. Sweet sappy things, bordered with hearts and stars. They talk about Lance’s sky blue eyes. His soft lips. The smell of his cologne. And how much he wishes those things were his. And Keith would die a thousand deaths if someone found those so they’re locked away where they’ll never see the sun.

Lance is growing fond of Lion and says as much in his letters. Nothing particularly forward, just comments about how much he looks forward to his notes. How much he appreciates his artwork. How he finds himself memorizing his poems for different situations to bolster his mood. All things that make Keith sigh during the day in class and fantasize in the privacy of his room at night.

Today Keith writes another little poem. He thinks it up in Astronomy while looking at the back of Lance’s head when he is supposed to be studying star charts. He’s already drawn Lance looking wistfully at the constellations on the ceiling. All that’s left is to hurriedly scribble the poem on that bit of torn paper before he forgets the words.

When finished he folds it in half and later shoves it into Lance’s desk in Potions.

*****

Lance spots it immediately once he gets into class. Another poem from Lion. He slides into his seat and bounces with barely containable excitement. Instead of indulging in a little gossip before class he opens the note and reads its contents.

 _The sparkling night sky,_  
_Kindled heavenly bodies  
_ _Basking in_ **_your_ ** _light._

This one is...it’s a bit more romantic than his usual. Lance's thumbs rub the torn edges with a smile. It’s another impulsively left gift. Probably wrote it today.

Lion’s getting bolder.

He tries to focus on the lecture but his mind wanders to poetic images immortalized in ink. Digging into his pocket he pulls out the other two he’s fond of. His favorite ones stay on him now. This new one will definitely be joining them. It’s probably his favorite so far. Along with the first one and another that he got two days ago. One that reads:

 _Relaxing sundown_  
_Against viridian grass,_  
_Your laugh in the air._

That one came with a drawing of Lance sitting on the Quidditch pitch. Mouth open with a bursting laugh as he smacks his thigh. This newest one has him looking up at the ceiling in astronomy as the stars rain down.

He puts them all next to each other and compares them, noting that Lion is getting better and better. His lines less jagged, more smooth but still a little scratchy. Lance stacks them together, ready to fold them to put away when a hand suddenly snatches them up.

*****

Keith looks up just as Lance gasps. Professor Honerva has stolen something from Lance’s very hand. He recognizes them as his poems and his stomach sinks.

“Mr. McClain,” says the potions master, face stern and unamused. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?”

Lance gapes, his mouth hanging open. It closes then opens again with no words coming out. He doesn’t know what to say. For once.

Honerva shuffles through as she reads them to herself. When she finishes, she smiles and folds them up. Lance tries to smile too but instead of confident it comes across as tight and uncomfortable.

Keith knows what happens to notes in Honerva’s class. They get confiscated, usually with a caveat in the form of extra work if they want them back. Otherwise, they get burned. And since the Slytherin is absolute trash at potion-making he can say goodbye to those poems forever.

Sucks but it can’t be avoided now. With a disappointed sigh, Keith turns his eyes back down to his cauldron.

“Very romantic Mr. McClain,” she says then adds, “but neither the time or place for it. If you’d like your paramour’s lovely poetry back, then you’ll make a girding potion for me-- _after class_.”

“But I have Quidditch practice today!” he exclaims, worry cracking his voice.

“Then I suppose you’ll have to make a choice then, won’t you?” she says in a gentle scolding tone.

“Can’t I just--” he tries to argue but she cuts him off with a snap. She’s one Slytherin alum that won’t be smooth talked by another.

“No. And next time you’ll pay attention in my class. Students turn to the next page please. That’s page 394 for you Mr. McClain, in case you weren’t aware.”

Lance looks absolutely crestfallen as he nods out a ‘yes ma’am’. He flips his pages, lips pressed into a thin line as he berates himself for being so careless. His fingers thread and pull at his hair in frustration as he frowns down at his textbook.

Keith’s not worried. He can always redraw and rewrite them. Might even be able to make them look nicer too. Lance will have to tell him which ones they were of course, which might be a little embarrassing for him because he’ll have to admit to losing them but all’s not lost.  It’s really not that big a deal and he wishes Lance would cheer up about it.

As soon as class ends, Lance bounds over to him and Pidge with a serious look on his face.

“Hey, can you lead the team today?” he asks Keith, then turns his head to Pidge. “And Pidge, can you fill in as Chaser? Until I get there?”

“What? Why?” Pidge asks, adjusting her glasses. She missed the whole debacle because her nose was buried in a book.

“I uh…” Lance’s cheeks flush pink. “I need to stay after class.”

Keith feels his heart skip a beat. He’s staying to make the potion?

“Ugh” Pidge grumbles with annoyance. “I’m...terrible on a broom. I hope you know what you’re asking me.”

“Sorry,” Lance apologizes and looks to them both, desperation in his eyes. “Please?”

Keith looks away and focuses on the door instead of his thundering heart.

Lance doesn’t want to lose the poems. They’re important to him. He’d rather miss Quidditch than trouble Lion to ask for new ones. Rather spend all afternoon making and remaking a potion to get those scribbles back than risk never seeing them again.

“I guess,” Keith manages to huff and steps past him.

“Great. Thanks, Keith. We’ll call it even on the tutoring thing?” Lance calls after him and Keith just waves over his shoulder. “Pidge?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it but your team is going to hate you for subbing me in,” she sighs. “Hope you know that.”

*****

They lose and badly. Pidge can’t ride a broom to save her life. She falls a lot and has to have members of the team come to her rescue multiple times. Not only that but she can’t play with her glasses on, so her aim is atrocious. They hardly score at all the entire match and twice she crashes into her teammates.

Keith does alright with leading them but he’s not as good as Lance is on changing strategies to suit the game. Most of the time it feels like he rushes and ends up botching the play. And yelling out strategies means his attention is divided. Makes it hard to do his actual role--looking for the snitch.

It’s brutal and the Gryffindor house team doesn’t go easy on them either. Hunk nearly took a bludger to the face and would have if it weren’t for Marcel’s broom taking the hit instead. Gave Allura time to get over there and smack it back but it hardly disrupts the opposing team.

Everything’s a mess and when Keith manages to catch the snitch he’s just glad it’s over despite the fact they’re two hundred points behind.

They’re making their way to the ground for clean up when Lance comes running down the field, panting and flushed from racing through the school. He tried to get there as fast as he could but still missed it. The first word out of his mouth is ‘sorry’ and so is the second, third, and fourth.

“I’m sorry,” he says a sixth time, still catching his breath, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

“It’s fine. Keith managed,” Morgan says. “He has such a delicate touch and reassuring smile.”

“Shut up,” Keith huffs with a frown and the others laugh a little.

“See?”

“Sorry Keith,” Lance apologizes to him specifically. “I know you don’t like leading.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “Just don’t make it a regular thing.”

“I won’t,” Lance chuckles and fist bumps his shoulder. “Thanks though.”

“Did you manage to make the potion? Or did Honerva kick you out?” asks Hunk.

Lance digs into his robe pocket and pulls out the recovered poems and a capped potion with a victorious grin. Keith notes that his fingers have burns and bandages on them. Must have taken him a few tries but...he did it. Something about that warms Keith.

“Jesus, Lance, your fingers,” Pidge pokes at them with a grimace. “Hardly worth the trouble.”

“They’re worth it, trust me,” Lance nods and tucks the items away back into his pocket. “How about I take you all to the Three Broomsticks? My treat for abandoning you guys for selfish endeavors.”

Selfish? Is that what he’s calling it?

Lance would play Quidditch every day. Has told Lion on multiple counts that he’d play twice a day every day if he could. Every game played is a game closer to becoming a professional Chaser. That’s his dream. But he threw away a day of getting closer to that dream just so he could have a few scraps of paper.

Keith’s scraps of paper.

“Where do you get the money for these ‘treats’ Lance?” Serena asks as they walk off the pitch together.

“Pimping out my... _tutoring_ skills,” Lance jokes. “You in?”

“I won’t say no to apology drinks,” she shrugs and nudges him with her elbow. “You’re not missing another date with your girl, are you? For us?”

“Ha. ha,” he says sarcastically but then his shoulders sink as he flushes with shame. “I cancelled when I thought I might be staying in potions all night,” he admits and a bunch of them laugh. “She wasn’t happy about it.”

“Strike two,” Allura says. “One more and the muggles would say ‘you’re out!’.”

“She’s going to dump your ass at this rate,” Pidge snickers and elbows Hunk. “I would.”

“I told her I’d make it up to her this weekend,” Lance assures them. “A romantic picnic at the lake shore.”

“Don’t fuck it up this time,” Pidge smirks.

The team arrives at Hogsmeade in no time. It’s awfully crowded though. Allura tells them it’s because Tomes and Scrolls just remodeled and reopened. They’re having a midnight goblin slam poetry reading much later for the more ‘adult’ crowd. Can’t imagine what naughty goblin poetry is like and no one has an interest in sticking around that late to find out.

“'Free quill with every purchase',” Allura reads off the door. “I’ve been meaning to get new ones. Mine are awfully worn down...mind if I run in right quick before drinks?”

“Actually, I need a new notebook,” Hunk adds.

“Let’s all go in then,” Lance suggests and they follow him in. “I’ve been meaning to price check a few things.”

The last time Keith was in here...it was right before he started writing Lance. It’s where he picked up all his duoscribo parchment. Expensive stuff. A dozen paired sheets set him back sixteen galleons. Not a problem for Keith as his family can certainly afford it. All he has to do is put his purchases on the Kogane account and they send an invoice to his mother’s estate.

She never asks about the money he spends provided it looks like a school expense. Paper. Quills. Books. Materials for potions. If it doesn’t look suspicious she couldn’t care less. Even if it’s ridiculously pricey.

Pidge and Hunk oogle over the new notebooks that came in. Chimera leather-bound journals. The best! The occamy feather quills catch Allura’s attention but then she squeals with excitement over the Thunderbird ones. Those have a lifetime guarantee on them! And only three hundred galleons! What a deal!

Lance meanders around the loose parchment for a bit, picking up pieces and checking the prices on them. He picks up a nice sized packet of duoscribo and puffs his cheeks at the price. Even with all the tutoring he’s been doing, there’s no way he can afford it. He puts it back and then side steps over to the feather quills and fountain pens.

Keith finds his way to some of the new notebooks. Palms a few and flips through the pages. They’re nice but nothing to fawn over. Maybe he’ll come back when he’s alone to pick up more duoscribo. He only has two sheets left.

He slides the journal back onto the shelf when he spots them across the room. A set of notebooks behind the glass at the main counter. Those are--Keith checks to make sure he’s not being watched as he approaches to inspect them closer. He bends down to look in the glass case.

Are those duolibri? They’re so hard to find outside of a specialty store. Keith never thought he’d see them here out in Hogsmeade. In Diagon Alley maybe, if he ordered them ahead of time. These ones look professional. Means they’re probably costly too.  

He wonders who made these ones. Doesn’t look like a familiar brand. Privately made? If he could look at the maker’s mark--

“Interested in the duolibri, young man?” the proprietor asks.

So they _are_ duolibri. Thought so. No reason to keep normal matching journals behind glass.

“Ah, you’re the one who bought--”

“I’m aware,” Keith interrupts before he can say more. He doesn’t need anyone, namely Lance, overhearing about his parchment purchases. “Can I see those?”

He pulls them out from behind the glass and carefully puts them into Keith’s hands. Leather and in the same shade. Both are expertly bound in a high-quality reptilian skin of some sort. An inky black. Keith would guess dragon if they weren’t protected by the ministry. Probably Chimera. Or Western Quillback. 

There are simple but elegant green belts with silver buckles to keep them closed. From a distance, one wouldn’t know how valuable they are. With a flip to the inside back cover he spots the maker’s crest and recoils slightly with wide eyes.

“This is--”

“Ah bollocks, you recognize that?” the proprietor groans.

Every pureblood family knows that crest and most try not to associate with it. In any capacity. A shield with spears, a pair of dragons on each side, and two intertwined snakes at the top--all of it centered around a large intricate ‘M’. Underneath the symbol scribbled in swooping cursive is: _Bound, Cut, and Charmed by D. L. M._

Keith doesn’t read the inscription any further than that, just closes it and extends them both back.

“Hell's bells. I’m never gonna sell those things,” the proprietor sighs as he takes them.

“No one wants to buy something made by a death eater,” Keith says.

“ _Former_ death eater,” he reminds him. “The Malfoys are a respected family again. Draco has been raising that name out of the filth his father dragged it through. Took him years to do it too.”

“Then he probably shouldn’t put his family’s old crest on things,” Keith huffs. “Two steps backward.”

“Agreed. He should probably get a new coat of arms. But they _are_ high quality. And he donates them. Never takes a sickle so that’s gotta count for something,” he says and puts the two tomes back behind the glass. “They’re gonna end up down here collecting dust forever.”

The Malfoy crest makes them...less than desirable but...Keith really does want a pair of duolibri. They’re so hard to make. Especially such big books like those ones. Those ones under the glass have got to be three hundred pages at least. The more pages the more work it is to charm each individual page, front and back. They take days on end to charm. 

It's hard for him to imagine the infamous Draco Malfoy going through all the trouble to make something like that. It’s exhausting to use that much magic, and high-level magic at that. Protean charms are no joke. He even bound it all himself too. And to top it all off, he just...gave them away for other people to make a profit off of?

When Keith thinks about it it's not all that strange. It's probably Malfoy's way of making amends to all the lives he affected. All the history books say he changed his views after the Second Wizarding War. That he became the man he wished he'd been in younger years. He even runs a foundation for muggle-born students who can't afford Hogwarts, paying their way and funding research.

Keith supposes that’s admirable and that initial feeling of aversion toward the books is waning. He nibbles his lip and glances at Lance who’s having a feather quill sword fight with Hunk.

If Keith got them, they’d finally be able to talk whenever they felt like it. No more once a week conversations. Any time.

Come to think about it...his birthday is tomorrow. His mom might overlook it as a birthday purchase if he buys them.

“How much are they?” Keith asks curiously.

“Four hundred galleons,” he tells him and Keith nearly chokes.

“Are you insane?” Keith blinks with disbelief. “No one will pay that. _Ever_. Maybe if Harry Potter himself charmed it and it had dragonskin binding with five hundred pages--!”

“I’d sell it to you for...three hundred,” he offers. “If you’re interested.”

Keith can more than afford it. Hell, he could have bought it at the original price but it’s ridiculously inflated. No one should have to pay that--even if they are loaded. Now it’s just a matter of principal and hell if Keith is going to back down now.

“Think I’ll just order some from the shop in Diagon Alley. Cheaper and I can live with the two weeks delivery time,” Keith bluffs. “That or you can let it go for two hundred.”

The proprietor frowns and Keith shrugs dismissively.

“No one’s going to take those things off your hands, not with a Malfoy crest on it,” Keith tells him seriously. “I’m probably the only person who’s even shown interest, right? You won’t get a better offer than that.”

The old man pretends to consider it but Keith knows he’s won. After all, it’s true. No one will buy that. If anyone’s even looked at them he can almost guarantee they shoved it away like it was on fire once they saw the crest. Just like Keith did.

But now that he’s taken a moment to look at it practically...Keith can overlook the book's origins. Especially with the knowledge that they were at least made by the _only_ reputable Malfoy from the Second Wizarding War.

“Fine,” The proprietor finally sighs and pulls out an invoice notebook. “It’s not like I paid for the damn things. Billed to your family, like before? Kogane, was it?”

“Yes,” Keith nods as he writes. He tears the receipt and puts it in an envelope for mailing in the morning.

“Got it. Do you want them delivered to the school? Or--”

“No, I’ll take them with me,” Keith shakes his head as they’re pulled back out from under the glass.

He hands them over and Keith feels himself smile with excitement once they’re in his hands.

Lance is going to flip his shit when he finds this in his desk tomorrow. He’s always telling Lion how much he looks forward to Correspondence Day. How he wishes they could talk more often. Now they’ll be able to write whenever the mood strikes them. Hopefully Lance isn’t put off by expensive gifts.

That thought is a sobering one that makes his breath hitch and brings him down from that cloud.

Oh god, is this too much? Should he not do this? He’s never gotten something for someone else before, not something like this anyway. What if it comes across as a little TOO forward? After all, Lance is still dating someone. What if he thinks--

But he’s already bought it. And when he thinks about it, they really only cost about a hundred galleons each. A hundred galleons isn’t...fuck, that’s still kind of a lot of money, isn’t it? It never occurs to him how rich his family is because he’s never had to think about money before.

Keith glances over at Lance who’s now with a store attendant. She’s handing him a small bag with his own purchase in it and giving him his change. The bag is then folded and stuffed into his shoulder bag before he starts collecting everyone for drinks. And shit! Now he’s heading this way.

He doesn’t have time to decide now so he’ll save this dilemma for later. Keith quickly shoves the books into his satchel before Lance can reach him with Pidge. The both of them pull him out of the store to join the others in the bar across the way.

Like last time, Lance buys the first round of drinks. Cheap ale this time but everyone heartily accepts it as they take their seats at a table.

Lance asks them all to relay all the important moments during the match he missed. That way he can start preparing a few strategies for the next time they compete against Gryffindor. He drinks and takes notes in his playbook as they offer suggestions. The loudest request among them being to never sub Pidge in ever again. Pidge seconds this idea while nursing her bruised shoulder.

Everyone else continues drinking on their own tabs while Lance only has the one. Odd to Keith, considering Lance can drink any of them under the table and relishes in the chance to do so. Often brags that no one can beat a McClain when it comes to drinking.

Must be punishing himself for missing the match, he guesses. That or he doesn't make nearly as much cash tutoring as he leads them to believe.

By kick out time, Lance is carrying Serena back to the castle on his back as she drunkenly sings. Keith would carry her himself but he’s not sure he’s stable enough to manage it after four drinks. Plus, she’s nearly as tall and heavy as Lance, there’s no guarantee he’d make it without dropping her. And there’d be no escaping her wrath since they live in the same dorms.

Better to let Lance risk that.

On the other side of the path, Hunk’s got a sleeping Pidge over one shoulder and Marcel under his other arm. Allura and Morgan lean on each other but they seem a lot more sober than the rest of their crew. They must look a sight as they stumble their way back to Hogwarts. Drunk but laughing and supporting each other the whole way.

After they split off, Keith leads the way to the Gryffindor entrance, slowing his steps so that Lance can keep up with his now sleeping cargo. Once outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, Lance slowly slides the girl off his shoulders and helps hook her arm around Keith’s neck so he can get her through the door without too much trouble. After that though, Keith hopes there’s another girl in the common room to carry the rest of the way as he can’t go up the girls' side of the dorms.

“I threw a few Advil in her pocket,” Lance whispers so he doesn’t wake her. “Works better than potions. She might want to take them before falling asleep.”

“She’ll thank you in the morning,” Keith nods.

“That’s what friends are for,” Lance waves it off with a smile. “You need any?”

“I’m good. Thanks for the drink Lance,” Keith says and shifts Serena’s weight.

“Thanks for leading the team,” Lance says, his smile suddenly sheepish. “I uh...really appreciate you covering for me. Means a lot, since I know you hate being in charge and it caused some problems with the scrimmage.”

“It’s fine,” Keith shrugs, his face flushed. Thankfully it can be attributed to his drunken state. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Lance chuckles and gives his shoulder a pat. “I better go. Can’t have a Slytherin learning the password to your dorms. Who knows what I’d do with that information?”

“Nothing good,” Keith smirks.

“Probably true,” Lance points with a laugh and takes off down the hall. “Later Keith. Drink some water before sacking out. I don’t want to win _too easily_ in the mock duels tomorrow.”

Keith waits for him to disappear before entering the common room. Thankfully there are a few girls he can hand Serena off too. They wake her and make her take the medicine in her pocket before carrying her groaning body up the stairs. Then Keith drags himself up to his side and flops down on the bed with a sigh.

What a night.

Suddenly he remembers the books he bought. With a start, he sits up and nearly doubles over with disorientation. He takes a deep breath then pulls the duolibri from his satchel to eye them again. They’re practically the same but the leather on one is a little smoother.

What the hell. He’s going to give it to Lance. Maybe he won’t even know how expensive they are. Maybe he won’t care.

With a quick spell he changes the color of the belt on one to red but then due to the nature of the notebooks it changes the other too. With a sigh, he changes it to a neutral color, grey. The rougher skinned one finds a place in his bag while he looks over the smooth one. This one will be Lance’s, he thinks.

He flips to the back again to look over the Malfoy family crest. _Bound, Cut, and Charmed by D. L. M._ and underneath it in small scrawling cursive is the inscription he didn’t read before.

_\---When all is said and done, all we have left to atone with are the actions and words we give to one another.---  
\---May you use the right ones for the right reasons and move ever forward.---_

There’s something enlightening about it. Just imagining the Malfoy from the comics saying such a thing is strange. But maybe not so strange when he remembers that Draco Malfoy is no longer a child. He’s not the sniveling, conniving little asshat that tormented The Three anymore. He’s just an old man with regrets in regards to his past.

Everyone makes mistakes but not everyone tries to make amends.

He must be nearing sixty now, Keith thinks and counts off years in his head. He was eighteen-ish? During the war? It’s been forty years so, that sounds about right.

Nowadays, he’s probably sitting in his manor’s parlor drinking his daily tea, either writing books or tinkering with charmed objects in an effort to donate to the wizarding community. To make it better than it was. Moving forward.

If this book turns out to be reliable...maybe he’ll just buy Draco Malfoy charmed objects from now on. Seems like a good investment. Low price for the high quality it is. Oh! He should put a note on the book for Lance. That way he knows who it’s from.

So he doesn’t waste valuable space in the book, he writes a quick letter on normal parchment.

_Lance,_

_I hope you don’t mind but I got you this. One of a pair of duolibri. Now you don’t have to wait to talk to me once a week. But work on that penmanship of yours. It’s terrible. Practice more. The smaller and more legible you can write the more we’ll get out of these books. I want us to be able to get the most out of them.  
_ _Don’t worry about the cost. You’re worth it._

_Love, Keith_

His face blazes with heat when he realizes what he’s written. In a panic, he snatches up the paper, balls it, and immediately shoves it into the little burning stove in the center of the room. He stands there with his hand clutching his heart, breathing heavy, and watches as it disintegrates before his eyes. Then he takes a deep, calm breath before addressing what just happened.

What the hell?! Why did he write that?!

Not only did he sign his own name but...he ended it with ‘love’?! He’s never done that before, on either count. Jesus, what if he’d written that in the book?! Keith swallows and closes his eyes.

Relax. Focus. No big deal. It was just a slip-up. He’s drunk. Not thinking straight. Pun intended. Damn it, now he's thinking like Lance.

With renewed calm, he writes a new letter. A much less forward one. When finished he reads it over and, finding it satisfactory, he folds and puts it in an envelope, addresses it, then ties it to the book with a green ribbon. After holding it up and inspecting it again he nods with approval. Looks good.

Tomorrow before class he’ll leave it in Lance’s desk and hope for the best.

*****

In Charms Flitwick releases them early in order of their new scores. Keith’s near the bottom of that list but he still gets out with plenty of time before Shiro’s class. Lance left first of course and hurried along to the library. Said he had a paper he needed to research but don’t worry he won’t be late. He can’t wait to trounce Keith in another mock duel he says jokingly.

Keith hopes that means he won’t get to their next class before he can. Gives him a chance to leave the book without being spotted.

He peeks his head into the classroom and finds it empty. What luck. Only Sumi inhabits the space, lounging over Shiro’s desk and licking her paws. She hardly spares him a glance as he quickly strides across the room to Lance’s desk but he stops dead when he sees something inside.

A small box, wrapped in red paper.

Crap. Someone else left Lance something. There won’t be room for his book. But besides that, he wouldn't want to leave his present on the same day as someone else’s anyway. Wouldn't want _their_ gift sharing a day with _his_. Keith has his pride after all. As much as he hates waiting, maybe he’ll do it another day.

Although...

His curiosity gets the better of him and he pushes aside the bow to see who his competition might be on the envelope. Maybe they’ll have an unexpected bat bogey hex thrown at them during the duels later, Keith thinks with a smirk.

 _To: Lion  
_ _From: Lance_

His hand flinches away from the package like it bit him as he takes a shocked step back. A gift? For him? From Lance? That can’t be right.

He pinches his arm but it’s still there and it still has his name on it. Er, well, his alias.

Should he just take it? What if Lance is watching from somewhere right now?

He checks the door but it’s closed and no one’s looking in. So Keith steps forward and tentatively pulls the parcel from the desk. Small and wrapped in red paper with a golden bow. He wants to open it right now, but not here, so he puts it in his bag and places his own gift for Lance inside the desk.

A quick look at the grandfather clock in the room shows he’s still got ten minutes before class starts. And Shiro always leaves the training room unlocked.

With barely contained excitement Keith runs into the other room. Sumi follows him with a trill and just makes it in before he closes the door. He drops down right in front of it and rummages through his bag. Sumi watches as he pulls out the gift and tears the wrapping to get inside.

It’s a wooden box. Smooth sanded edges and stained dark. There are ivy etchings carved along the sides. Bronzed latch and hinges. He flips the little clasp and opens it to find a pair of pens.

They’re deep garnet with golden filigree designs swooping down the shaft. Looks like feathers a little. One of the pens is larger with a bigger nib and the other is smaller and thinner. There are two replacement nibs inside as well.

They’re calligraphy pens he realizes. Nice ones too. And look at that, there are several small bottles of different colored inks. Red, green, blue and black. Keith suddenly remembers there’s a card and he opens it with the pen box on his lap.

**Lion,**

**You always write your letters with a plain quill. I can tell from the scratch marks and ink blots. And you said your birthday was at the end of the month. Hope I didn’t miss it. I thought maybe you’d like a nice pair of pens to write with. It’ll bring your art to a whole nother level, I’m sure.**

**I had some spare change from my tutoring gigs. Think of it as a big thank you for being such a reliable friend. If you think it’s too much, just pay me back with a poem or two. Written with your new pens maybe? Hint hint. ;)**

**Wishing you the best, Lance**

Keith sighs as warmth fills his cheeks. Is this what Lance bought last night? How ironic that they both searched the store for something to get each other. He snorts remembering that Lance didn’t drink much that night. That idiot. He spent all his money on Keith.

Is this another sign? That he shouldn’t give up on this becoming more? Keith can only hope. He puts the note down and fingers the new pens.

They’re so nice. Good quality. And in his color. Suits him perfectly. Too bad he won’t be able to use them anywhere where Lance might see him.

How much time does he have before class? Five minutes? Wouldn’t it be something for the first page in their book to have something nice drawn in it?

*****

Lance wonders if Lion came by as he walks down the hall. He made a point to be really quick about leaving his gift and exiting while the halls were still empty. Killed as much time as he could in the stacks of the library until class was to begin. He hopes it was enough time for him to stop by his desk.

Shiro’s room is full of students when he arrives. He makes his way to his seat, almost expecting the package to still be there. It’s not. It brings him great relief but in its place, there’s a new object. A book?

He pulls the envelope from it and opens to read the message inside.

_Lance,_

_Now we can write any time. But I’d save it for between classes. Don’t want this getting taken by the Potions master. Hope you like it._

_Your friend, Lion_

"That's Lion for you, short and sweet," Lance snorts.

But what does he mean by write any time? How? Are they supposed to write in it and leave it for each other? He flips it open and finds the first page covered with a drawing.  Or part of one. It's only half finished. For once it's not a picture of Lance.

It's a drawing of a pen. Specifically one of the calligraphy pens Lance got him. As he looks at the page, colored lines begin to emerge and swoop down in even swirls to add more details. Ink flowing from the nib of the illustrated pen, forming into a river complete with hills and water reeds.

Lion drew this-- _is_ drawing this. He's drawing right now!

“Holy shit…this--it’s a duolibri,” he whispers to himself, eyes wide with awe. He nearly drops the thing in his shock.

These are so expensive. Lance couldn't hope to afford a pair unless he scrimped and saved all his tutoring money for a year. Even then, he'd never get one this nice. And Lion just _gave_ him one? He's never held something so expensive in his hands in his whole life. 

Words start showing up at the bottom when the drawing finishes.

 _Thank you for your gifts._  
_Thoughts flow from them like water_  
_Smooth, fluid, like you._

Another poem too? What did he do to deserve this? Lance scrambles for a pen and flips to the next page. At the very top and in his best handwriting he scribbles out a message.

**So you like them? The pens?**

A few seconds later a response shows up.

 _They’re great. Good choice on the color too. You said to pay you back in poetry. Just don’t lose this one to Honerva._  
**Damn it. You heard about that?  
** _I did. How many times did you try making it? The potion?_  
**I told my team two. It was actually four. And I burned the shit out of my fingers.  
** _You’re okay though, right?_  
**More than okay. :) Luckily, Hunk’s great at making burn salves. No permanent damage.  
** _No wonder you didn’t show until the scrimmage was over._  
**Sorry. Hope I didn’t let you down.**

Keith sits there in the training room. He’s still got his back to the door as he stares at the last words Lance has written.  

"He's...sorry?" Keith mumbles.

He furrows his brow with confusion at Sumi who just mews and yawns before batting around the ribbon from Lance's gift. Keith lowers his new pen back to the page.

 _Let me down? What are you talking about?_  
**I know you look forward to scrimmage days. And our team ended up losing because I wasn’t there. Can’t have been fun to watch.  
** _If your team lost it’s because your Seeker can’t lead to save his life._  
**Hey now, the only one who gets to drag Keith is me. Captain privilege.**

Keith snorts and rolls his eyes. Lance has more to say on the matter.

 **He’s not a bad guy, just in need of a serious stick removal.  
** _Stick removal?  
_ **You don’t know? The one up his butt of course. ;)**

Keith snorts with mild laughter and it takes him a while to stop. Of course Lance thinks that about him. He is a bit of killjoy, in all honesty. It’s not his fault really. Both his parents are fairly serious individuals too. He’s always thought it was hereditary. Guess it's something he needs to work on.

He nods his head with a sigh and gets back to writing.

 _Sorry, it took me a minute to stop laughing. That’s...a colorful image._  
**Glad to have made you laugh. I’ll consider it my first real victory of the day.  
** **I love doing that--making people laugh, I mean. Not making fun of my friends.  
** _I don’t disagree though. About the stick._  
**I’m working on extracting it. He’ll be cool before you know it.  
** _Maybe cooler than you?_  
**Now, Lion, you know no one’s as cool as me. ;)**

Keith sighs. He can’t fault him on that one. Lance is very cool.

 **Besides, can’t make him too cool. Or you’ll change penpals.  
** _That won’t happen. He’s...not my type._  
**Good to hear. :) Class is about to start.  
** _Talk to you later then_.  
**Looking forward to it.**

Keith closes the book and buckles it. Then buries it deep in his bag so no one has a hope of seeing it. He decides the only time he’ll take it out is when he’s sure he’s completely alone. Doesn’t want to risk Lance seeing it and recognizing it as its double.

When he returns to the classroom the last of the students is filing in and taking their seats. Sumi climbs up the teacher's desk and yowls for attention. Shiro gives it to her with a pet and then reminds the class that they’re doing some mock duels today so they’re to leave their bags in the classroom.

“Only bring the bare necessities if you’re dueling today. Wands and robes,” Shiro tells them. “It’s getting a little chilly. If you’ve got mittens or scarves you can bring them.”

Keith drops off his stuff at his desk, throws on his robe and joins the group of students. Lance is among them and gives his shoulder a shove, saying something along the lines of how he’s going to whoop his ass again. Keith retorts with a ‘you wish’ before Lance laughs and turns to talk to the others.

There in his inner robe pocket, Keith's spots what Lance considers his necessities. His wand...and a new heavy black journal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. The Death (Upright)

_[It’s] symbolic of the ending of a major phase or aspect of your life that may bring about the beginning of something far more valuable and important. You must close one door in order to open another.  ---Biddy Tarot_

 

They talk back and forth a lot. More than Lance ever expected to.

It seems like every time he opens the book, Lion’s drawn something new in it for him. Simple sketches of Lance doing innocuous things like chewing his nails during a test or balancing a pencil on his nose. Asleep in the inner courtyard or picking at his plate of food at lunch. All of them framed with ivy, or clouds, or bricks, whatever strikes Lion’s fancy that day.

Lance finds himself looking forward to breaks between classes just so he can check it and write something back. Usually, it’s just him unleashing compliments on the artwork. It’s all so amazing he can’t believe how good Lion is at drawing. And in ink too! Phenomenal! Absolutely amazing!

_Helps when you have a good subject._

And then Lion says things like that. Makes Lance’s heart flutter and not the way his girlfriend does.

Inez makes him horny like there’s no tomorrow. Hell, a lot of things do. But Lion and his book...he’s never looked forward to writing so much in his life. If his penmanship is any indication, he used to hate it. Now it’s all he looks forward to in his spare time.

Lance smiles fondly at the book while he sits in the courtyard. He tries to focus on his work but ends up returning to the pages, skimming through them to look at their conversations instead. Fun talks about different spells and which professor is clearly wearing a hairpiece. Then perusing old poems and drawings to pass the time instead of studying. And to wrap it all up, he always checks the last page in case there’s something new.

It’s a distraction but...he doesn’t mind. Lion’s fun to talk to and he never gets bored. He finds himself daydreaming and trying to imagine what Lion’s like off the page.

Lion’s told him that he doesn’t have many friends and Lance can’t imagine why not.

He’s funny, though his humor is different from Lance’s. More deadpan. He’s blunt most of the time but then he has unexpected moments of snark that Lance can’t help but burst with laughter when he reads. Seems pretty knowledgeable about various spells. So he’s smart too. All his drawings and poetry make him out to be incredibly creative as well. An artist.

If he’s hot to boot--which Lion promises he’s nothing to sneeze at--then there’s literally no reason he shouldn’t be the most popular freshman at Hogwarts. With all his advantages stacked up, Lion should have a million friends.

But he doesn’t. Says he can count the number of people he’s close to on one hand. And only one he talks to on a regular basis.

That’s the saddest fucking thing Lance has ever heard. It makes his heart ache to learn that such a cool, smart guy doesn’t have many people to talk to. But Lion tells him its not that big a deal. He prefers having just a few friends. Quality always wins out over quantity.

 **And I’m a Quality-friend right? ;)  
** _The first real one I’ve made on my own._  
**Awesome!  
** _No, that’s pathetic. Nineteen years of life...and only made one friend._  
**So what? A friend’s a friend.  
** _You don’t think it’s pathetic?_  
**I’ll admit, it’s hella sad dude. Makes me want to cry but you did it. You made a friend. And not to brag but you chose an excellent specimen as your first friend.  
** **But boy are you in for a wild ride. McClains never lose friends, they horde them. And now? You’re locked in for life buddy.**  
_That’s reassuring._  
**See, this is where your lack of emojis makes it really hard to tell when you’re being sarcastic but I’m going to go with you NOT being sarcastic for that last bit.  
I mean it dude, you ever need anything, just say the word. A McClain never abandons their friends.**

Another long pause.  They always worry Lance a bit. They only happen every so often and it makes him wonder if Lion is thinking too hard about what was said or if he’s thinking too hard about what to say. A few minutes later he gets a response that has him beaming with a wide grin.

_Thanks, Lance. And I’m not being sarcastic--this time._

“Good to hear,” Lance chuckles to himself before returning to his overdue papers.

*****

Keith’s never been more pleased.

The duolibri were an amazing investment. Now he doesn’t have to worry about getting to class early to leave notes, he just writes it in their book. He can even just sit on his bed to write and usually Lance answers within minutes. In fact, it’s what he’s been doing the past two hours.

They’ve learned to write small and Lance has gotten a lot better with his penmanship at Keith’s insistence. Gotta utilize the space efficiently. He doesn’t get on him about it too hard though. Doesn’t want to be a hypocrite considering sometimes he fills an entire page with a drawing or two of Lance. In those cases, they often write around the picture to use the space better.

 **Your drawings are so good and not just because they’re me ;)  
** _I’ve had a lot of time to practice. I didn’t have many friends growing up._  
**Did you ever date? Like in secondary school?  
** _Not really. A few crushes here and there. Some casual encounters. Made out with a guy at a spring formal once._  
**Nice ;)  
** _He used too much tongue and smelled like cheap cologne. Not a good memory._  
**Too bad. I myself am an amazing kisser with excellent taste in cologne. Not to toot my own horn but...TOOT!**

Keith rolls his eyes with a laugh. What a ham. Shame those lips are currently promised to someone else. He’d like to test that claim of his.

He rolls off the bed to stretch real quick, touching his toes then reaching for the ceiling. He hasn’t moved in a while and his back is getting stiff. The cuckoo clock on the wall goes off, chirping three times. Now it’s been three hours since they started talking today. Good thing it’s the weekend--

“Wait…” Keith squints and looks at the calendar. His eyes go wide as he scrambles for the book and pen.

 _Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere today?_  
**I don’t think so?  
** _Lunch date?_  
**Yeah but that’s not until--**

The writing stops suddenly.

Keith waits for more but it doesn’t come. Shame he can’t see anything from the Gryffindor tower but he can imagine what’s happening. A flustered Lance grabbing anything and everything he can as he tears ass across the entirety of Hogwarts to reach the romantic spot on the lakeshore he picked out for him and Inez to eat together.

He can’t believe she would have waited for three hours. After all of Lance’s other mismanagements of their schedules, she has to be incredibly put out. This might be it for them and Keith tries not to look too eager for news as he waits patiently for the results with his book open. Regardless of the outcome, Lance is likely to tell him about it.

Thirty minutes pass when Lance’s writing starts up again.

 **So...guess who’s single again and has two thumbs? This guy, haha.  
** _Did she yell at you?_  
**In a way. She guessed I wouldn’t be there. Left a prepared Howler for me...it wasn’t pretty. Very hurtful actually haha.  
**_Sorry Lance. For distracting you._

He isn’t sorry. Not really. It sucks that Lance is probably feeling like shit but...Inez wasn’t right for him anyway. And not just because Keith was insanely jealous of her. Too many differences of opinion. Personality conflicts too. But now--Lance is free again.

**Nah, it’s fine. As much as getting dumped always sucks, I’m actually kind of relieved.**

He is?

**I mean, she hated Quidditch which is the first love of my life. Always complained that it took up too much of our potential time together. *shrug* It was one of those doomed to failure things but I was just too blinded by a pretty face to care.**

That sounds like Lance alright. Luckily their friendship is based more on conversation and emotions. Personality. Not physicality. Right now, they’re as close as they are because Lance doesn’t know what he looks like. If Lance saw him...knew it was Keith...it would change... _everything_...wouldn’t it?

Why does that thought instill a sense of unease and trepidation in his gut? Because...what if things change...for the worse?

 **Guess that means I’m going to the next RoR party with no attachments.  
** _You going to look for your next ‘dance partner’?_  
**I dunno, the last one didn’t turn out too great, did it? Might just...fly free for a while.  
** _Maybe you should be a little more discerning in your choices._  
**You ever go to those RoR parties?**

He’s been to two he explains. The Ravenclaw one, which he tries not to remember for the embarrassing reaction he had watching Lance dance. And the Hufflepuff one a few weeks ago.

The Hufflepuff one wasn’t nearly as exciting. Inez wouldn’t let Lance dance with anyone but her. Didn’t seem to bother Lance too much since it meant he didn’t have to go fishing for partners but it bored Keith a little. Watching him dance with a girl is not nearly as exciting as when he does so with guys.

 **The Gryffindor one is coming up before break.  
** _Guess I have to go or I’m an insult to my house._  
**Haha, you know it! If you see me will you say hi?  
** _Everyone says hello to you._  
**Haha, that’s true. Hope you’ll be one of those people. ;)  
** **We can meet up and dance a step or two. :)**

Keith suddenly feels a bubbling nervousness in his stomach. Why? Because he’s scared? Why would he be scared of saying hello to Lance now that he’s single again? It's what he wanted right? A chance at getting closer to Lance. A chance to come forward with the truth, about how he feels.

He then thinks about how many people go to those parties and the thought of all those eyes on him as he confesses...Keith swallows as his stomach churns.

 _I...don’t know. I’ve got two left feet._  
**I’ll teach you how to dance, no charge. ;)  
** _Maybe one day._  
**Fine, keep being mysterious but I hope you’ll still come. It’s good to relax every once in a while.**

Keith tells him he’ll think about it but the both of them have work to do. Papers to write and all that jazz. So they say goodbye for the day and put down their pens. The both of them peruse their textbooks but keep their book open and within line of sight, just in case there’s more to say.

*****

The Gryffindor RoR party is better than Keith thought it would be. At least, compared to the Hufflepuff one. At that one, they had a bake-off which meant lots of delicious food but that was the problem. The biggest desire after filling up on food for nearly everyone was to go take a nap. It was nice but not everyone’s cup of tea.

That won’t be happening at this gathering.

If there’s something Gryffindors do well it’s celebrating and partying. Loud music with dancing is a must. A live band in one part of the room, charades in another, and several tables set up for Quidditch pong. There’s an awful lot of drinking going on no matter where one looks because Gryffindors are not one to back down from any challenge put before them. Luckily, there are several sober older students posted to keep an eye out for sick classmates and their shenanigans.

Keith’s in his usual spot on the wall in his uniform and robes, nursing his second cup of spiked punch. Some others invite him to play Quidditch pong but he declines, saying he’d rather just listen to the music tonight. That’s not true of course. No, he wants to stay on the wall and discretely watch Lance dance from out of the corner of his eye.

Speaking of, the Slytherin is having a grand time. One would have no idea that he’d had been dumped a week prior with how he beams and flirts with anyone within speaking distance. Hilariously, very few Gryffindors approach him for a dance, likely due to some unsavory gossip from his ex. But that doesn’t mean he has a shortage of partners. More than a few pushes in real close to entice Lance into some racy dancing which he heartily accepts.

Keith has a hard time faulting him for being so flirty. He’s a good time guy. And it's not like he’s absolutely shameless about it. He’s not making out with anyone on the dance floor--saves that for dating--but he is having fun and a little saucy dancing gets his heart pumping. Clearly, he’s feeling no pain from the breakup. He doesn’t even notice when Inez struts by with a new guy on her arm, a third year Ravenclaw.

Seems she’s doing alright too.

On occasion Lance makes himself take a break between songs. Grabs a drink to hydrate as he looks around the room. Searching for someone specific but looking downcast when he doesn’t find who he’s looking for.

Of course he can’t find him. Doesn’t know why he bothers trying. He’d never know if he walked right in front of him and stepped on his foot. All he knows is that he’s a Gryffindor and that’s not enough to identify him. Lance’s eyes fall on Keith from across the dance floor.

Finally a familiar face. Nice to see some of his team there. Wait. Keith’s a Gryffindor. Maybe...He waves and starts his approach from the food table.

Keith’s back goes rigid as Lance makes a beeline for him. Makes his heart race with nerves and for a split second, he thinks Lance knows even when he couldn’t possibly. Against reason, he feels caught. His hand grips tight on his cup as he raises it and nonchalantly chugs a good portion. Maybe the alcohol will embolden him enough to not care what happens next.

“Hey Keith,” Lance waves again and sidles through a crowd of Ravenclaws until he’s next to him.

“Hey,” Keith nods.

“We’re friends, right?” Lance inquires, bowing his head in a little.

“Yeah...why?” Keith swallows and tries to ignore the pulsing in his ears. He’s not...going to ask him to dance? Is he?

“You’d tell me if someone in your house had a huge crush on me, right?” he asks and Keith blinks dumbly.

He’s asking about Lion, he realizes. Thinks that Keith might know him, not that he is, in fact, the person he’s asking about. Keith relaxes a little at that. If it’s not on the Quidditch pitch Lance is oblivious.

Secret is still safe for now. Good, because he definitely isn’t ready to come clean yet. Not with a crowd of onlookers. Keith shrugs and puts down his cup.

“Oliver likes you,” Keith mentions, gesturing with his thumb in his direction.

“Pretty sure it’s not Oliver,” Lance says pensively with a hand on his chin, rubbing with thought. “He’s...I dunno, shyer? You sure there’s no one else you can think of? No one who’s mentioned me?”

“Not to me,” Keith answers. It’s not really a lie. No one’s told Keith they were into Lance.

“Damn,” Lance sighs and shakes his head.

“What’s the big deal?” Keith asks. “Don’t you have enough people falling all over themselves to dance with you?”

“Yeah but…” Lance trails off.

He pulls something from his cargo shorts pocket, a black book. It’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t go anywhere without it. He flips open a few pages to the most recently written one. Nothing new since yesterday. He runs his fingers over the words and closes it with a defeated sigh.

“Maybe I was too pushy and he decided not to come,” Lance mumbles quietly to himself as he puts the book away, disappointed.

“Who knows?” Keith shrugs avoiding eye contact with him.

“What about you? You look so bored. Did you come with anyone?” Lance asks, taking two shots from a tray as someone passes. He offers one to Keith but he shakes his head so Lance downs them both.

“Nope,” Keith shakes his head and picks his cup back up. “Just here for the music and free drinks.”

“Haha, that’s practical,” Lance laughs and pats his shoulder. “Alright, well I’m gonna dance some more. Have fun over here not having fun.”

With that, Lance returns to the dance floor. He beckons a few handsome Hufflepuffs over to dance with him and two accept. Twin guys. They start a bit of dancing with a grinning Lance between them.

Not having fun? But Keith _is_ having fun. He’s positively enraptured as Lance begins dancing to a new song.

He can’t get over how Lance’s demeanor changes when he’s dancing with guys. Something about the inviting sway of his hips. The thrusting of his chest when he laughs. That debonair smile as he dances. The shimmer of sweat on his forehead that he wipes with his shirt by lifting the hem and exposing his stomach. Then those slender fingers return to the hips of his current dance partner.

There was so much heat from his hand when he patted Keith’s shoulder...that heat could be on Keith’s hips instead. Lance’s smirking smile pressed against his pulse. And Keith would return the favor. Maybe delve his own hands into Lance’s pants to get a hold of his--

Keith crushes the plastic cup in his hand and turns away from the dance floor, absolutely mortified at his thought process as alcohol drips down his knuckles.

God, he hopes no one saw that. He can only imagine the expectant look he had on his face. In public too. And damn it all to hell, another inappropriate boner. Again he couldn’t be more thankful for his robes.

Maybe it’s time to go. The alternative is just biting the bullet and asking Lance to dance and he’s not sure he can do it. Not with the chance of Lance just laughing at him. If Lance rejected his advances, here in front of everyone...he feels his heart ache at just the thought and it makes his stomach churn.

At least as Lion, Lance doesn’t mind his attempts at flirting. Even tells him he’s adorable. He couldn’t possibly attempt it as himself. Not like this. Not here.

Keith tosses the destroyed cup into the trash, dries his alcohol-soaked hand on his robe and leaves the noise of the party to return to Gryffindor tower. Once there he falls into his bed with a distressed sigh.

He’s alone again. The whole dorm is quiet, everyone’s back at the party making Keith one of maybe five students not there. He reaches under his pillow and pulls out their book to scan the pages.

The last thing in there is Lance encouraging him to come. Promising him that it would be fun. That he’d save a dance for him, he just needs to ask. And because Keith just squirreled himself away in an alcove along a wall like a coward…Lance thinks he put him off by being too forward and that’s not the case. Keith doesn’t mind Lance’s forward nature. It suits him. Wishes he could be just as honest without looking and feeling like a moron.

He pulls out his pens and ink to set them up on the desk. And so that no one bothers him, he closes the door. Most of his roommates knock so it’ll give him time to put away all his things if they come back early. He draws his wand from his robe and puts it to his temple before whispering out a spell.

“ _Recordaborres_.”

Warmth and flash of light as Keith searches for the exact memory. Once he finds it he pulls the wand slowly away from his head. At the tip of his wand is a tiny flickering light that he taps to a face mirror. The surface lights up with the memory.

Shiro would be shocked. It’s the first non-offense based spell that he elected to learn on his own. He’s still not great at it but he’s been using it more frequently for his drawings so he’s getting better. This time is a decent attempt he notes.

Looks a little like a damaged video reel. The colors hard to shape unless they were particularly impactful on his memory but the images are at least accurate. It shutters in and out a little, repeating important frames for Keith.

Lance’s smiling face and undulating body as he sways close to his dance partner. That’s the one he wants he thinks as he taps the mirror. It doesn’t pause it perfectly. It kind of flickers a few frames over and over but it’ll have to do.

He takes the pen in hand and begins drawing suave and sensuous Lance. Starting with the basic frame of his body as he dances and makes eyes at everyone. Then the slant of that inviting smile, suggesting more than just friendliness. The flush on his cheeks from the exhilaration of having fun. That tank stretched tight across his chest. His neck slick with sweat and lips wet from licking them.

Fuck...he’s hot.

Keith’s cheeks warm with excitement. He bites at his lip as he draws and tries to ignore the hardness forming in his slacks. When finished with the sketch he taps the mirror again so it’ll resume movement. While it plays the memory, again and again, he darkens his outlines.

When done he looks down with a heady sigh. There’s no mistaking how he feels about Lance with this drawing. Attention to all the things that catch his eye are so apparent even Pidge would be able to see it-- _without_ her glasses.

Keith looks back at the mirror and the flickering memory there. It’ll last for another five minutes he thinks. He’s alone right? And with this angle, no one can see under the desk, even if they do barge in.

He unbuttons his slacks and pulls himself out. Hard and twitching from just thinking about the flirty Slytherin. He begins the languid stroking of his hardon as he looks at Lance’s smiling face. When Lance’s eyes close to lose himself in the music Keith bites back a sigh and strokes faster.

Lance looks just like that day in Transfigurations. Flushed cheeks, panting gasps as he was sucked off, hell Keith can almost hear him. Feels like he's right in his ear begging him to go faster. Harder. Little begging noises interspersed with Spanish pleas for more.

It doesn’t take Keith long to reach his limit. He snatches a handful of tissues off his desk comes into them with a shuddering gasp. He may have even said his name in the throes of his release.

As guilty as he feels for using Lance’s image as wanking material--it feels too good to stop. This is probably the sixth time he’s done this in the last month. He throws away the mess and adjusts himself back into his pants. Cleans his hands with a little hand sanitizer before picking up his pen again.

Now that he’s calmer, time for the finishing touches. He adds the fine details to Lance's picture and jots down a poem as well.

 _Wild flutter of wings_  
_Your lively spark invites moths  
_ _Eager to_ **_smolder_ **.

Just as he finishes writing new letters pop up in the blank spaces.

 **I knew you were watching me somewhere. This one is...very evocative. ;)  
** **Why didn’t you come up and dance with me?**

Keith smirks and answers back.

 _How do you know I didn’t?_  
**Feel like I’d know. Like a jolt of something would tell me it was you.  
** _Well, you’re right. I didn’t._  
**It’s cause I was too pushy, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll stop pushing for us to meet if you want.  
** **I’d hate to lose your friendship because I was being insensitive.**

Keith scratches the back of his head with uncertainty. He does want to come clean...but right now they’re such good friends. He’s comfortable with what they have and doesn’t want risk losing it. One day he’ll be willing to pull away the mask--but not yet. He needs more assurances that Lance will like what he sees.

Can’t exactly say that but he does want to put Lance’s mind at ease. Even if he has to lie to do so.

 _No, it’s not that. I wasn’t feeling good. Probably too much punch. I left early._  
**Want me to send you a care package with one of the other Gryffindors? Some water and medicine?  
I’ll flag one down. Tell them to leave it in the common room for you? I could even bring some myself. Leave it at the portrait.**

That’s entirely too nice. While the gesture is something he’d do for any of his friends, the thoughtfulness of it still makes Keith sigh. He picks up the book and takes it over to his bed, places it next to his pillow. He sprawls out on the mattress and answers.

 _Appreciate it but I’m feeling better now. Thanks. Are you still at the party?_  
**Yeah, but I’m leaning on a wall. Writing to you.  
** _You can go back to the dance floor. No reason_ _you_ _can’t still have fun._  
**But I am having fun--writing to you. Most fun I’ve had all night honestly.**

Keith’s cheeks erupt with heat and he buries his face into his pillow with an exasperated groan. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall harder, Lance goes and writes something like _that_. It can’t be true though. He looked like he was having the time of his life earlier. Lance is just...being a big flirt. Something he can’t turn off.

Not that Keith's complaining. 

 **I don't want to insult the Gryffindors’ ability to plan a party but...I don’t know. This one felt kind of lacking.  
** _That so?_  
**Yeah. It’s not that its boring. Just not as exciting as it could have been.** **  
** **Maybe because you didn’t dance with me. ;)  
**_Haha._

They talk for a while longer. About half an hour passes as Lance says he’s looking forward to the Slytherin RoR party. He’s thinking of joining the committee on planning it. That way he can throw a few ideas around to make it the most talked about party of the semester. But they have a while yet to plan since it’s not until after Christmas break.

Ah Christmas break...he’d love to talk about that too but it’s getting late. A topic for another time.

 _I’m getting tired. Think I’ll head to bed._  
**Alright. Time for me to head back too.  
Sleep tight Lion. Sweet dreams.**

Keith feels his heart flutter and with a sigh, he writes back.

 _You too Lance. Talk to you later.  
_ **Looking forward to it, as always.**

He closes the book and clutches it to his heart as he settles in.

Lance...such a cool guy but also sweet and kind. Funny and charming. Never thought he’d think those things of him when they first met. He’s still a bit of an egomaniac. Pride still the size of a full-grown hippogriff. But now when he looks at Lance he sees so much more. Keith’s eyes drift closed with a sigh.

Maybe one day, Lance will look at Keith--the real Keith--and see more too.

*****

Winter break is fast approaching. Already there’s snow falling in little flurries outside the library window. Lance would go outside to run around in it but there are other things keeping him from cutting loose and enjoying himself. Mostly worry.

“Snow! Snow!” Ciela squeaks and taps her beak to the window. Lance grabs her and shoves her back into his robe pocket before the librarian can catch them again. Last time he threw them out and turned Lance’s skin fuschia for three days as punishment. “Play!” she squeaks, muffled by fabric.

“Shh. Later Ciela,” he promises. “We’ll go play at lunch with the gang.”

Lance sits back and returns to the letter in his hands with a frown. It’s from his family.

They can’t wait for him to come home and tell them all about his classes so far. His parents are especially excited since they’ve never been to Hogwarts and love hearing about the place. They want to see the spells he’s learning and hear about his teachers and friends. His siblings have long since stopped talking about their school experiences and Lance will be the last to relay fun stories.

They still don’t know about his house assignment and his mom is getting a little peeved that he won’t tell her. Thinks he wants to surprise her. She’s not being rude about it but keeps dropping hints about what color fabrics she should be buying for gifts.

 _I want to redecorate your room, hijo. Rojos? Y amarillos?_ _Azul se vería bien_ _, no crees?_

Lance frowns further. All those colors but she never mentions green as a possibility. No _verde_ at all. It’s not exactly reassuring.

Because he’s been so secretive about it she complains that she has to go with generic gifts for him this year. Just things with the school crest or Quidditch related objects. Maybe if she hurries she can pump out a knitted scarf before the break is over for him, provided he tells her what color yarns to use.

And that’s not all.

His dad wants to know what happened with the girlfriend he was going to bring. All Lance told them in the last letter is that it didn’t work out. That he’s probably not bringing anyone home this year unless Hunk wants to visit. His parents more than approve of that.

That guy loves all the cooking Lance’s parents do and they love him back. They adore that he’s always interested in taking notes on their technique as if they themselves were wizards. Makes them feel special. Magical even. By far, he's one of Lance's parents' favorites. 

Ugh, anyone would be good at this point since they’d take the attention off of Lance. Because for once, he doesn’t want everyone looking at him. Doesn’t want to be the focus.

With a tired sigh, he folds up the letter and puts it away. Then he digs out his duolibri, flipping to the most recent page and doodling snowflakes in the margins while waiting for Lion to write him.

*****

Keith’s sitting up Indian style in the middle of his room and taking slow deep breaths. Meditation. At Shiro’s insistence.

Since the lull in Quidditch matches, Keith has had nowhere to expend his excess energy. Had a testy outburst with a Ravenclaw in class that very nearly came to blows. Pidge held him back from decking the guy as Lance did his best to dissuade the student’s friend from joining the fray. No shots fired but Shiro still gave him a talking to afterward. And he lost his house a few points.

On Keith's bedside table sits a little glass vial of scented oils, uncapped and wafting into the room. Jasmine and sandalwood. Supposedly it helps calm and soothe stressed minds but for Keith the effects are debatable. No amount of perfumes in the world can de-stress him enough for the holidays.

His parents still haven’t gotten back to him about Christmas. Since their separation eight years ago holiday times have become difficult. He’s supposed to stay with his father during the summer and winter months but from the most recent letters...it’s looking like his dad won’t make it back to the ranch in time for the break. Something about a herd of ill thestrals in France.

His mother is almost always busy with ministry matters. Being an Auror is tough work. She sent him a letter saying he’s welcome to stay at the estate in Japan but almost guarantees she won’t make it to visit. To instead send her his ‘Santa’ list so she can get him some gifts when she’s not busy. He can’t remember the last time she actually had time to shop for him. Chances are it’ll turn into a package of galleons for him to spend as he sees fit.

It’s looking more and more like he’ll be staying at Hogwarts with Shiro for the break. That’s fine with him. Better than being alone in either of his parents' big empty houses. Again.

Keith lets out an annoyed huff and gives up on his breathing. That’s enough meditating for one day. He caps the oils and puts them back into the drawer before immediately pulling out his black book. Finds Lance scribbling little snowflakes around some of their old conversations.

 _Bored?_  
**Yeah** _._  
_What are your plans for Christmas break?_  
**Supposed to go home. Not looking forward to it.  
** _Why not? I thought you missed your family._  
**I do. A lot. But my siblings will be there and I...haven’t told my parents I’m in Slytherin yet.  
** _Still?_  
**No. I keep thinking it's a shitty thing to do via mail.  
** _You going to tell them face to face at Christmas?_  
**Yeah, I'll probably have to. Rather never tell them honestly but...can't put it off forever.** **If I don’t come back with something shiny to distract them with, it’s going to dampen the whole vacation. You know, my mom didn’t even consider green as a viable color option for redecorating my room?  
Skipped it entirely like it wasn’t a possibility.**

Keith frowns, his sympathies going out to Lance.

 _Something shiny?_  
**A cute girlfriend/boyfriend usually does the trick. Want to volunteer as tribute? It’ll probably net you a free knitted scarf from my mom. ;)  
** _Tempting but I don’t know my family’s plans yet. Still up in the air._  
**That’s alright. I’m thinking of asking my friends in case any of them are interested. If not...guess I’ll weather it alone.  
** _Good luck, with whatever happens._  
**You’ll still write to me, won’t you? Over the break? I get the feeling I’m going to be spending a lot of time hiding in my room, begging for Christmas to be over. And it would be great if I had someone to whine to about it.**

Keith snorts but scribbles a response.

 _Yeah, I’ll write. Probably late at night though. Time difference...but I’ll write. Promise.  
_ **Cool. Gotta meet up with my team soon for drills but...I wrote something for you. Just uh...give me a second. Look away or something.**

Wrote something for him? Keith quirks a brow but stands from the bed and turns as he stretches.

Thanks to Lance he remembers they have a team meeting so he crosses the room to change into his warm Quidditch robes for flying practice. No game or scrimmage, just a little flying practice. Half the Hufflepuff house team is down with mumblemumps so Lance thought it’d be a good time to run some drills. Keep them from getting rusty during the cold months.

He doesn’t bother with his seeker gloves. He won’t be catching a snitch today. They’d probably keep his hands warmer but they’re feeling a little small lately. Hurts his wrists. He’ll have to ask the coach for a new set soon. Or just buy some of his own. For now, it can wait until after break.

Keith snatches a scarf off of his roommate’s coat rack. He's borrowed the scratchy thing before so he won't mind. As he’s tying it on, he comes back to the book just as Lance is finishing up.

 **There once was a young man named Lion  
** **who brings me a smile without trying.  
** **What he does with the quill  
** **Always brings me a thrill  
** **And when I think of him I’m often caught sighing.**

Keith clutches his shirt right at his heart as his cheeks erupt with heat. Dear god did Lance just--what is--that’s a poem! A limerick! A romantic one too!

**Is it good? It’s bad, right?**

Keith scrambles for the pen, drops it on the floor, retrieves it, and scribbles hurriedly on the sheet.

 _No, it’s good.  
_ **Awesome, so not bad for my first poem? ;)**

What? Keith’s heart has stopped. His first poem? His first ever? And he wrote it to Keith?

 _It’s great._  
**I was worried it was a little too forward and that you’d think I was a creep.  
** _You sigh when you think of me?_  
**Aw geez, now I’m blushing in the middle of the library. Yeah, I do, okay? Been doing it since before Inez dumped me and even more lately.  
** _You don’t even know what I look like._  
**Doesn’t matter.**

It doesn’t?

Keith has to sit down. He’s feeling lightheaded and more than a little dizzy. Almost nauseous.

It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t _matter_? But that’s one of the things that’s been keeping him from coming clean. And Lance is saying it so easily. It doesn’t matter what Lion looks like. But how? How is that possible?

And now Lance is writing more, hurried like he’s rushing to get the words out before he can stop himself.

**Can I be honest? ~~I just~~   I look at your writing and think things like--I bet he has nice wrists. Soft, right at his pulse. When we talk I can’t stop smiling and it’s because I look forward to hearing from you every day. And your notes, before the book? I love the way they smell, like wood but like flowers too. It’s subtle but nice. And I think--this must be what he smells like.**

His notes? But he doesn’t wear perfume or any--oh! His meditation oils. They’re stored in the same drawer as his duoscribo parchment and spare school supplies. It must have leaked on the papers. But that’s not what’s important here!

Keith falls back onto his bed and runs a hand through his thick head of hair as he takes deep meditative breaths so he doesn’t spiral into a panic.

“In...” he breathes slow. “Out...In...Out…”

What is happening?! He was content with what they had! With playful banter and casual flirting. It was bittersweet but he was happy with it. And now Lance is telling him it’s mutual? That it could evolve further?

**Sorry that’s a little weird, isn’t it? That I go around smelling your notes and sighing?**

In the library, Lance waits and it feels like time is going extra slow.

He really likes talking to Lion and he’s not one to pull his punches when it comes to how he’s feeling. And right now he feels an attraction to the sensitive and sweet guy on the other end of his book. Thinks he might even be the reason he wasn’t all that broken up over Inez...because there was someone better right there all along.

He knows Lion likes him too but...is he willing to get closer to Lance? He's always so anxious...What will it take?

 _It’s not weird. I’m really flattered._  
**So you wouldn’t mind me flattering you on a regular basis?  
** _~~Why~~  Don’t you have other...prospects?_  
**You’re the only one I can’t get out of my mind. ;)  
** _That was incredibly smooth._  
**I know, I’m good like that. Wait, are you being sarcastic?  
** **Man, please use emojis. Save me the emotional hardship of trying to guess**.  
_Not sarcastic._  
**Thank god.  
** _~~So what do you want to~~...What are you suggesting?_

Is he serious? Does he have to spell it out for this guy? Lance chuckles a little to himself. So smart but thick as hell. Adorable. Okay, he can make it so clear that even the densest person in school would understand.

**I know you’re into me and you’ve been sort of dancing around that fact because I was dating someone. Well, I’ve been single for three weeks now. I waited, hoping you’d say something but you haven’t gone for it (probably anxiety, right?) So...I’m going to do it instead. Here goes:**

**I like you, Lion. A lot. You’re smart and funny. You like Quidditch and you’re not afraid to tell me when my plays are dumb. You write amazing poems and every time I read them I can see the exact moment you thought of them. And your drawings? They show how much you watch me but always from a safe distance, like you’re afraid to get too close. Well, I’d like us to be closer.**

**It doesn’t have to be now or even tomorrow. It could be weeks but--I think we could be good together.**

**Want to go on a date with me sometime?**

Another long pause. Makes Lance’s stomach knot up having to wait for a reply. He's never been this nervous while confessing his feelings to someone before. The delay in responding is so long that he goes from restless to worried. Then he’s struck with a horrifying thought.

“Oh god, he’s _dead_ ,” Lance gulps and rubs his face nervously. “I...I killed him.”

That’s when words come in, slowly but the letters are jagged, as if written in a shaky hand.

_I need some time but...I would like...to do that. Yes._

Lance jumps to his feet and almost shouts with victory. He raises a fist to pump with excitement but remembers where he is as another Slytherin student looks at him with confusion. Right, he’s in the middle of the library. No noise.

He fakes a yawn, putting that celebratory shaking fist in front of his mouth before gathering up his stuff. Nice save, he thinks. Time to go. Needs to get ready for flying drills anyway. As he’s running down the hall still looking at this book, Ciela pops her head out of his pocket.

“Happy happy,” she chirps and nips at his shirt, climbing her way up to his shoulder.

“Very happy Ciela,” he nods and smiles fondly at the page. He scribbles a last note just as he’s taking the stairs down into the Slytherin dungeons. Skipping them two at a time and almost falling because of it.

 **Take as much time as you need. Talk to you later Lion. <3  
** _Have fun at practice.  
_ _Not sarcastic._

Lance can’t help but laugh at that and closes the book.

He’s about to run up the boys side of the dorms but he stops at the lake window and gives it a series of quick taps. Within seconds half a dozen selkies are there looking in on him. Lance is one of their regulars at the window and they gesture at him to hurry up, to speak. He begins tapping on the glass, harder than necessary but they don't mind.

H-E   S-A-I--

They’re having a difficult time keeping in their excitement as he is at containing his own.

H-E   S-A-I-D   Y-E-S  T-O   A  D-A-T-E

Lots of tapping back at him. Congratulations and questions and most of it Lance can’t understand because they’re all going too fast or tapping over each other. He promises to tell them more but he has to meet up with the Quidditch team. They tell him good luck and he thanks them before running as fast as his long legs will take him. Within minutes he's dressed for practice and racing down the hall.

With how light he is it almost feels like he won’t even need a broom to fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Give it a kudos! Really like it? Leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
> Don't know what to say? Tell me your favorite part. Or your favorite line. Leave nothing but hearts. Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that stuff and I'm no exception!
> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	12. The Two of Wands (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: Took some CREATIVE liberties with Lance's family set up since this was written before I knew much about them in canon. So Family set up is NOT exactly like canon. And I won't be changing it.

_“You are making a decision between sticking with what you know, or expanding your horizons and taking a risk. You know that the world has to offer you something ‘bigger’ or more meaningful, yet you are also aware that in order to maximize on this opportunity, you must leave your familiar grounds.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Flying practice is going well. Lance spends most of the time helping his fellow Chasers improve on their turns. Seems to be helping as Serena is starting to catch up to him in reaction time.

Keith runs some speed drills with the Beaters. Going from one end of the pitch to the other, timing themselves and trying to improve on each run. The cold bites at his cheeks and ears as the three of them whiz by the others. Before long Keith has to stop because he can’t feel his fingers and has to warm them with his breath.

“Frozen digits?” Lance calls up to him.

“Yeah,” Keith sighs, breathing on them.

“Here, catch!” Lance tosses something up and Keith catches them with ease. Black gloves.

“Since you’re doing more moving than we are you can use them until practice is up,” Lance tells him.

He doesn’t even get a chance to thank him before Lance is gone,  returned to the other Chasers. So Keith just slips them on without a word. Worn out with a couple holes in the tips. They won't keep the tops of his fingers from freezing but the palms are very warm. He smiles for a second before they begin the drills again.

All this work keeps Keith from thinking too much about Lance’s confession. But he does still think about it, asking himself questions to which he has no answers.

When should he reveal himself? When they’re alone? After a game sometime?  Before or after Christmas break? Should it be in a romantic setting? What if Lance changes his mind when he sees it’s Keith? What if he won’t accept it?

He tries not to dwell on the last ones as it hurts him too much to consider as a possibility.

For an hour they practice. Coach Coran even comes out to check on them and make comments on their form. Pulling on his mustache, telling them to change their grip or hunch their shoulders more for speed versus maneuverability. He even mentions how he’s very impressed with how much they’ve improved over the last few scrimmages.

He doesn’t doubt for a second that next year they’ll make their house teams if they keep this up.

Once done, everyone hands their brooms off to Lance who stuffs them under an arm. Then they all run back to the warmth of the castle or their common rooms while he takes the brooms into the storage shack. To be wiped down of all the snow. Keith helps out by carrying a few brooms as well.

After that last horrible match when Keith led everyone, the team’s been calling him co-captain. As much as he hates it, Lance made a comment stating that he should help with clean up since that’s what ‘captains’ do. He meant it as a way to saddle Keith with some of the chores but he doesn’t mind. Means he gets to spend more time with Lance without it drawing attention.

“What are you doing after this?” Lance asks as they wipe down the brooms and hang them up one by one. He sneezes and curses before he wipes his nose with a handkerchief. “If I catch a cold I swear…”

“Nothing,” Keith shrugs and pulls off Lance’s gloves.

As much as he wants to keep wearing them he should give them back. He whistles and tosses them to Lance. He catches them and shoves his frozen fingers back inside with a content hum. So warm.

“Nothing huh. Same. Might hit up the Great Hall for some cider,” Lance tells him. “I love snow but man, I hate the cold. Might go take a nap buried in blankets. Curl up with a good...book, ” he says with a giddy smile.

Wants to get back to talking to Lion. It’s all too obvious.

Gives Keith an idea as he wipes down another broom. A way for them to spend a little more time together. He’s been getting better at being around Lance for extended periods without that terribly nauseous feeling in his gut so...he hopes this suggestion doesn’t go horribly wrong.

“Did you still want to tour the Gryffindor common room?” Keith asks and Lance drops the broom in his hand. It’s almost comical the way he stands there struck with confusion.

“Are you...wait, you’re serious?” Lance blinks before stooping down and picking the broom back up. He hangs it up and waits for an answer which comes in the form of Keith nodding. “I thought we were even when you covered for me?”

“Hardly offsets three hours of tutoring,” Keith huffs. “We can go now if you want. There might still be some hot chocolate left.”

He realizes Keith _is_ serious. He’s not joking. Who knew that Keith could be...cool? Lance nods with an excited grin.

“Yes! Hell yes!” he cheers and hooks an arm around Keith’s shoulder to give him a bracing squeeze. “I didn’t think this day could get any better! Lead the way _co-captain Ko-gane_!”

The third and fourth years are already gone for the break which officially starts for the rest of them in a week. Means there will still be plenty of first and second years hanging about but most of them will be so busy packing they won’t notice a little intruder in their midst. Especially if he stays in his scrimmage uniform. No house colors on it to give him away but just in case he’ll leave his hood up for his visit.

They arrive at the portrait to which the Fat Lady gives Lance a suspicious eye. She knows he doesn’t belong there but her job is to open at the password, which Keith gives. Monkshood Tea. Lance barely contains a squeal of excitement when the portrait swings back to allow them entry.

“Don’t think you’ll get in again with this password,” Keith informs him. “It’s changing tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lance promises then grabs Keith’s sleeve at the shoulder and starts pulling him down the corridor. “Come on, hurry up! I can’t wait!”

Keith smirks at the eagerness with which he tugs him along but follows. Warmth floods down the walkway and once they reach the common room that heat surrounds them. For a second, Lance just stands there at the entrance, stunned as he takes it all in. His hand even loses its hold on Keith and falls slowly to his sides as he looks around with awe.

Stuffed armchairs abound and crimson fabrics drape down from the chandelier to the corners of the room. Tables with chairs and bowls of fruit sit off to the side as places for students to study. Several bookshelves with varying tomes line the windows that look out on the grounds. And portraits line every wall with hardly a blank space between them.

Rust colored bricks make up the walls and the roaring fire in the hearth casts lights on the stone and everything in here. That fireplace is a work of art in itself. And it nearly takes up the whole wall! Someone’s got a pot in there and it’s boiling. Probably for more hot chocolate.

Lance is so struck by it all he doesn’t have words for a full five minutes. Luckily, most of the students in the room are too busy to notice them. They just hurry back and forth, packing away their supplies or cramming to finish a paper before the break starts.

He looks so starstruck. Eyes bright and grin spreading the more he looks around. It’s something Keith’s never going to forget. That he did this. Made Lance this happy.

“It’s amazing, better than I thought it would be,” he admits with a beaming smile. “My sis didn’t do it justice.”

“It’s alright, I guess,” Keith shrugs with a smirk and Lance shoves his shoulder with a laugh.

“Show me the best stuff. Oh and don’t think I forgot about hot chocolate,” Lance points.

Keith moves about the room as Lance follows him. He points out the best chairs, the ones with the most supportive cushions. His favorite one sits in the corner, because it’s furthest from the most noise Lance guesses and he’s right. Then he points out the different portraits until he gets to the one he knows Lance will like.

The portrait of The Three. All of them are in it of course. A young Harry Potter between his best friends: the ever friendly Ronald Weasley and the witty Hermione Granger.

All three of them are standing side by side with Harry’s arms over their shoulders. Big grins on their faces--and why shouldn't they be smiling? They just saved the whole fucking wizarding world. It’s even signed, just like Lance’s sister told him but the portrait itself is smaller than he thought it would be. Only about a yard in each direction.

“Who’s your favorite?” Keith asks. Lance never mentioned it in their correspondence.

“Oh, none of The Three,” he says looking back at Keith. “I love them, they’re super cool but uh, I had a major crush on Ginny in the comics. Haha. Wish I’d been alive to see her Quidditch matches.”

“My family knows the Potters, you know?” Keith tells him.

Lance whirls on him, his palms slapping down on Keith’s shoulders before gripping tight. No escape as the Slytherin’s eyes hone in on him. He almost looks mad but his face is more incredulous than anything else.

“Shut the hell up, are you fucking serious?!” Lance exclaims but then lowers his voice. “Bullshit, you’re pulling my leg.”

Keith assures him it’s true.

His mom works in the ministry of magic. She’s an Auror. Harry Potter is still the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so they talk all the time. The Kogane family even threw a Gala at the estate and invited the Potters about eight years ago. Keith was only ten then but he got to shake their hands. Both Harry and Ginny. They even signed a poster in his room.

Lance looks like he’s going to have an aneurysm.

“Oh my god, I’m--ugh! So--UGH!” Lance stammers, unable to form the words. “Shake my hand, shake it right now!”

“We’ve shaken hands before,” Keith reminds him.

“Yeah but now that I know you’ve got the luck of the best Chaser _and_ Seeker in the past century on your hands I wanna shake them again,” Lance explains like it makes perfect sense.

Keith snorts. “You’re ridiculous,” he smirks but extends his hand for Lance.

Lance removes his gloves, shoves them in his pocket, and grasps Keith’s hand firmly in both of his for a shake. Still just as warm and soft.

“Come to me sweet sweet Quidditch luck. Abandon Keith and join _meeeeee_ ,” he whispers, that last part like a horrid little gremlin.

“Moron,” Keith smirks and takes his hand back. “Seen enough yet?”

“Uh, can we hang here for a bit?” Lance asks and looks around at everything again. “I don’t want to leave so soon. It’s all just...it’s too cool.”

Fine. It’s not like they’re in a hurry and Keith has no problem with prolonging their time together. He gestures Lance over to one of the couches near the fire and pours him some hot chocolate from the pot. Hands it off before taking a seat across from him.

While they drink, Lance talks about his favorite Ginny comics. They’re sports comics and he has them all. Every professional Quidditch match she was ever in.  She’s the reason he wanted to become a Chaser. To be as amazing and well-loved as his idol. Keith mostly nods but sometimes gives his input on current players that are up and coming.

After a bit the talking slows. It’s clear that Lance is distracted. He keeps scanning the room, hoping to spot someone reacting to his presence. Someone he thinks doesn’t know he’s going to be here and might give away their identity in their shock. When students walk by, carrying their things Lance stops altogether to watch them pass with curiosity but none of them pay him any mind.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks even though he knows the answer.

“Uh, nothing,” Lance says and sips his drink. “What are your plans for Christmas?”

“I’ll be staying here,” Keith says. “My parents are busy.”

“That sucks,” Lance frowns. “Do you want to stay at Hogwarts?”

“I don’t care either way. This isn’t all that new to me,” Keith shrugs. “I’m used to being alone for the holidays.”

“Ever been to Cuba? Want to stay with me and my family?”

Keith has to control every instinct in him to keep from spitting hot chocolate across the room and into Lance’s face. To keep from choking as he swallows. To calmly bring his cup to his lap without spilling. He manages to do all these things and collect his thoughts before opening his mouth again to speak.

“Why are you asking me?” he says with a frown.

“Cause we’re friends and you don’t have anywhere to go,” Lance explains. “Can’t let you be alone at Christmas. That’s fucking sad dude. Plus, having a classmate at the McClain house will be all the rage with my family.”

“Why not ask Hunk or Pidge?” Keith wonders. He’s known them longer, surely Lance meant to ask them first.

“I was gonna ask everyone at practice,” Lance admits. “But I got distracted. And since you reminded me and you don’t have plans, figured I’d ask now. Want to come?”

Keith never thought he’d ask him. Lion, sure, but not Keith.  It’s not even something Keith considered a possibility. Lance is a lot closer with his other friends so it makes sense to ask them before him.  Is it because he snuck him into the Gryffindor common room? Did that bolster him up the ladder in terms of friends? That thought is a warming one.

He declined as Lion to keep his identity a secret but...he doesn’t have to do that as Keith.

A week. In a foreign country. Having fun and spending time together with Lance and his family. He could even help distract Lance’s parents. Keith could be the something shiny to keep them off his case about being in Slytherin. Would even give him a reason to utilize some of his Spanish.

But the biggest reason--It could bring them closer without the need for secrecy. Might make it easier for him to accept Keith’s confession when the time comes. Go from friends to something more. The thought makes his heart race but he plays it cool. He shrugs nonchalantly as he finishes his cocoa.

“I don’t have anything better to do,” he says.

“Nice! You won’t regret it,” Lance promises with a smack to his shoulder. “Good food. Good music. And tons of places to see in town. We can even hit the beach.”

“Never been,” Keith admits. “To Cuba, I mean. I’ve been to the beach. You sure your parents will be okay with it?”

“Of course. They love guests,” Lance tells him. “You’ll get better treatment than I will, that’s for sure.”

*****

The whole week Keith packs and repacks to make sure he’s got enough clothes to last him the vacation.  It’ll be different having Christmas at the beach. Lance told him to pack plenty of shorts and tees. It’ll be pretty warm still. Warm enough that winter clothes won’t be necessary.

That looks like more than enough to last. Keith snaps the case shut and begins rolling it down to the Hogwarts entrance where Lance is supposed to meet him with his friends.

He’s really doing this.

His first trip in years with someone other than Shiro. The professor will be staying at Hogwarts but he insists that Sumi join Keith on his vacation. So he knows Keith’s in good hands--er, paws. The prima donna hates getting her feet wet so she climbs onto the suitcase to hitch a ride as he pulls it through the inches of freshly fallen snow.

Keith made sure to send a letter to both his parents on where he’s going to be for the next week. Shiro sent one too. No reply yet, of course, but they won’t care as long as they know he’s safe.

Pidge and Hunk wait at the entrance, ready to make the walk down to Hogsmeade station. It's just the two of them going back and forth about something. Some kind of incantation argument and whether or not volume effects spell strength.

Keith hasn’t done enough research to have an opinion but opts for taking Pidge’s side. Whether or not the spells are stronger...certainly feels like they do more damage if he incants louder. Hunk disagrees since silent spell casting is just as powerful as normal casting and it has no sound at all. The argument goes on for a good ten minutes before they start wondering what’s taking Lance.

It's beginning to look like he's running late.

“Five sickles Pidge,” Hunk reminds her. “The train will leave without him.”

“I’ll take that action. You lost last time too,” Pidge grins. “He’ll be here. He’s never late if it’s important.”

Keith perks up at that information. For some reason, it’s an eye-opening revelation for him but it feels like something he should have noticed sooner. Lance’s poor time management makes a hell of a lot more sense now. It's subconscious. He's only late to things he doesn’t prioritize as important...like some of his classes and his dates with Inez.

But Lance never misses a practice with his team. Always on time for his scheduled tutoring sessions. And like clockwork never misses an evening conversation with Lion.

“There he is,” Pidge hums and gestures out her hand for Hunk’s money. “Told you so.”

Lance waves from the top of the hill, pulling his travel case behind him. Ciela’s cage wobbles as he runs and the bird inside objects to the bumpy pace with grumpy squawks. Some of those screeches sound vaguely like foreign obscenities in Lance’s tone.

He comes to a stop and catches his breath once he makes it to the group.

“Sorry, Ciela thought it would be funny to play hide and seek today,” Lance explains and shoots his bird a glare. She squawks at him, telling him he’s going to be late in Spanish. “Yeah, and if we were, it’d be your fault you undercooked chicken.”

They hurry along down to the station and store their bags in the luggage compartment before finding a room for them all to sit in. Feels like that first day but the atmosphere is much more casual now. Pidge takes the window seat with Keith since she didn’t get the chance to look out last time.

Lance sits on the same side as Keith this time with hardly a second thought to their proximity. His feet prop up on Hunk’s lap across the way to which the big guy has no objections.

“Ah, think I’ll nap,” Lance says tilting his head back and crossing his arms. “Don’t move too much or you’ll wake me up.”

Pidge starts a conversation with Keith. She wants to know more about the magic involved in the apparatus professor Shirogane has. Wants to know how it works, what materials and spells are involved. He tries to oblige with what he knows but admittedly, it isn’t much. Keith never really expressed an interest but he’s sure Shiro would talk to her about it if she asked.

Hunk buys a couple of drinks off the trolley for the lot of them to share while the train still sits in the station. Puts them onto a tray and casts a spell on it to keep it floating between them all to eat from. Sprinkling some kind of sugar derivative he made in potions on top of the cookies for a pop of flavor.

Sumi situates herself on Lance’s lap while Ciela moves across the compartment to play in Pidge’s wild hair. She very nearly makes a nest of it before settling in and chewing on the ends. Pidge hardly spares her a glance and keeps going with her talk. Hunk pulls a book to read while Lance quickly falls asleep just as the train departs.

Keith can hardly blame him. They spent all night talking over their books.

Lance worries that he won’t get a chance to chat during the break. Thinks Lion will be too busy to talk to him. So Keith stayed up into the wee hours assuring him he won’t forget. He even took the time to draw him a few pictures and write a few poems. Something to hold him over in case they can’t find the time.

Normally, Keith wouldn’t say no to nap either but he functions better on less sleep than most. He’ll manage until it’s time for bed.

Once they’re halfway there, Pidge takes a break from talking about her new topic of curse breaking and arithmancy. Good thing too because Keith doesn’t know how much more technical talk he can handle without his head exploding. He likes Pidge as a person, but her topics of conversation give him a headache after prolonged periods.

“Gross Lance,” she grimaces and leans forward to wipe his chin of drool with the cuff of her sleeve. “There. You owe me--for protecting your image.”

Lance hears nothing but closes his mouth as he shifts in his sleep.

“How long have you known him?” Keith wonders.

“Since secondary school. He’d come to Diagon Alley once a week and play Quidditch at the public field,” she reveals. “He was always trying to get everyone to play. Invited us to join his team but I told him I wasn’t any good.”

He didn’t care. Roped her into doing statistics and planning strategies after she tried every position on the team. Out of them all, she likes Seeker most. Just sit still and look out for flickering gold. And her size makes her fast, even though her eyesight leaves something to be desired in terms of aim.

Keith can imagine it. A young Lance running up to Pidge with her nose buried in a book and offering his hand. Her insisting that being on his team would make them lose. And Lance not caring at all.

Hunk was always there too, her classmate. He was always getting asked to be a beater. He hated that and stopped playing for the longest time. But Lance made him Keeper for a match and he grew to love the game again. After that, no matter the number of kids playing he always picked her and Hunk first, even when there were better players to choose from.

“He’s a dope,” Pidge chuckles and then leans forward and zips his coat up. “But he’s our dope.”

Pidge smirks then leans back onto Hunk’s massive body, pulling her arms into her hoodie to stay warm as she catches a few minutes of rest. The big guy doesn’t notice because, behind that massive cookbook, he’s snoring away too. Subconsciously his arm moves out and encircles her shoulder. Lance’s feet still haven’t moved from Hunk’s lap but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all.

So this is what a group of longtime friends looks like. Keith wonders if he’d be able to do something like this too? Once he knows them all better?

Lance shifts again and rests his head on Keith’s shoulder with a sigh. The sound of which sends a tingling sensation down Keith’s entire back.

Focus, he tells himself. The guy is just sleeping. They all are. Now’s not the time to...admire his handsome face up close without someone noticing? 

What an idea. The compartment shades are drawn and everyone is asleep after all.

Keith turns a little, carefully, so he can peer down on that face. Warm tanned skin with a light dusting of freckles. Slightly parted lips as he breathes quietly, his brows furrowed in his sleep like he’s a little worried.

Keith’s not sure what possesses him to do so but he raises his hand and brushes Lance’s bangs aside. A soft touch, barely anything at all but Lance’s face relaxes a little. The furrow in his brow eases. Despite his better judgment Keith raises his fingers again and ghosts them across Lance’s cheek gently. Lance just sighs, warm breath on Keith’s palm.

He looks so…

Keith’s eyes fall on those lips and he swallows. Tempting. Tempting is the word he’s looking for. Finds himself wondering again about the flavors of his kiss. Might taste like his last meal which was...Keith sniffs. Smells like honey butter croissants. Sweet...and inviting.

God, he’s so close, he could brush his lips against Lance’s with a single movement. All he’d have to do is tilt his head.

Maybe going on this trip is a mistake. If he’s this close to Lance all the time it’ll be harder to hide his feelings. His desires. That’s a whole week of them being together that he’ll spend beating back those feelings since he’s not ready to let them out yet.

Better guard his emotions better than this.

With that thought, Keith promptly stands up and Lance falls onto the seat with a yelp. It upsets the cat’s comfortable position too, who yowls with a glare at Keith and then hops into the luggage rack to seethe with annoyance.

“Dude,” Lance gripes while rubbing his leg where Sumi dug in her claws in.

“Sorry, bathroom break,” Keith tells him and sidesteps his way to the door. He needs a moment to cool his thoughts.

“Fine. Hey, when you get back, I’ll give you the lowdown on the McClain residence,” Lance tells him. “That way you’re not overwhelmed.”

Keith nods with a hum and slides the door closed. Lance in the meantime digs his journal out of his carry on. Flips through the pages but finds it empty of anything new. That’s what he expected.

They agreed to talk at night, that way they aren’t rude to their families by checking it all the time. In the last message, Lance signed off with a heart and a winking face to which Lion FINALLY responded with a smiling face.

“Emoji progress,” Lance snickers with glee.

Keith’s back in a manner of minutes and Lance closes his book. Shoves it into his inner jacket pocket before getting right to his short family explanation.

There will be five other people in the house. His mother, father, one of his older sisters, and twin brothers. All of them are characters in their own rights and will be a different flavor of pain-in-the-ass depending on the time of day and things said. That’s not even mentioning his aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents that will visit for Christmas Day.

Best to just start with the immediate family.

His mom is curious, all the time. A portly and nosy woman. She’ll want to know anything and everything about anyone coming into her house. But because of that, she’ll talk for hours on end. Loves gossip but cares deeply about her children. Very hospitable too. Chances are she’s cleaning the house and readying treats for them as they speak.

His father is very touch oriented. Tall and mustached. Expect handshakes and hugs before being ready for them. He’s also scatterbrained. Lance assures Keith that he _will_ ask the same question multiple times because he’ll forget he asked in the first place. Gets distracted easily.

“Must be where you get it,” Keith quips.

“Haha,” Lance says, unamused.

His sister Veronica is a Gryffindor like Keith. Proud with a teasing attitude. She always enjoys baiting Lance into arguments. She mixes concoctions for an apothecary in Ireland that ships out rare potions all across the globe. Normally she wouldn’t come home for the holidays but this year she wants to see Lance and ask about his first year. Probably to make fun of his grades and what not.

Lance’s other sister, Rachel, won’t be coming home for the holidays. Some kind of falling out with an Aunt that Lance insists he doesn’t want to know about.

His brothers will probably be absent except at meal times. Marco and Luis. They are genius little shits and Lance has no idea how they ended up as Hufflepuffs instead of Ravenclaws. They’re Lance’s younger brothers but they’ve already finished _all_ their schooling. Only twelve and they’re well ahead of the curve.

Since the twins are so young they don’t have a particular job lined up yet. So they spend most of their time at the muggle arcades. But they do travel a lot with Veronica, studying the soil from which she harvests her ingredients and doing experiments on it. Despite loving dirt, they can’t grow anything to save their lives, just like their father. Doesn’t stop them from trying though.

“I think you’ll get along with Veronica,” Lance says as he sits back. “She’s fearless. I once saw her pull off her diving tanks and mask and hold her breath for almost two minutes to squeeze into a recess to get a single piece of rare kelp. I think an eel nearly took her finger off too.”

“She scuba dives?”

“Scuba dives, mountain climbs, skydives, whitewater rafts, kickboxes” Lance lists off and shakes his head. “We thought she was going to be a duelist but...guess potions are more interesting to her. Nerd.”

Keith nods and peers out the window. They’re close. The train will pull in in about five minutes. Lance gives Hunk a nudge with his toes waking him. He, in turn, jostles Pidge who’s glasses fall off her face and onto the ground. She scoops them up with a huff and cleans them before putting them back on.

“Almost there?” Pidge hums and cracks her knuckles. Ciela rustles in her hair with a coo.

“Ciela, ven aqui,” Lance calls and Ciela returns to his shoulder. “Be good and you won’t have to go back in the cage.”

“Ciela good,” she promises. “Always good.”

Once they’ve grabbed their things and exited the train car Pidge gives them all a fistbump before running to see her family. Matt’s been away for the week already and waits for her at the station ready to pick her up. She jumps into his arms and he swings her around for a spin before grabbing her bags and leading them home.

Hunk gives Lance a hug and Keith a shoulder pat before breaking off from them too. He’s gotta hit up a ministry floo network hearth so he can drop in on his dad and drag him home for Christmas. They say their goodbyes, leaving Lance and Keith to walk out of the station together.

There’s a wizard house ten minutes from the station with several hearths in it for international travel. Keith spends the walk staring at practically everything. He usually takes the ministry floo networks in the station when going to either of his parent’s homes. To his mom’s office and then wherever from there. Means he hardly gets to see much of the London unless he’s going to Diagon Alley.

Once they get to the house they drag their cases up the stairs and into the building. They have to wait a bit for their turn. A lot of people are using it to visit family for the holidays so as they wait in line, they talk.

“You told your parents I was coming, right?” Keith wonders. His mentioning of Lance’s father being scatterbrained makes him wonder if Lance thought to tell his parents he’d be bringing a guest.

“No, haha,” Lance chuckles. “Surprises make for good conversation. Sorry if it feels like I’m using you but...you’re going to be the talk of the family for several days. I appreciate your sacrifice.”

“It’s fine. Better than sitting around doing nothing,” Keith shrugs. “We’re up.”

Lance nods and the two of them pull their cases into the hearth. Lance tucks Ciela into his robe pocket and Sumi jumps into Keith’s arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be held by Keith. It’s not that she’s scared. The floo network is not as dangerous as apparating but they don’t want to get separated. Happens sometimes.

Lance takes a deep breath and pulls his wand.

“Why are you--”

“You’ll see,” Lance promises. He grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out the address of his home before throwing it down.

With a puff of smoke and ash and warmth, the lot of them are transported through the network. Always feels like falling to Keith. Like his feet have nowhere to settle and that makes him anxious. Like slipping off a broom and having nothing to grab onto. He tries not to squeeze Sumi too hard but it’s all too obvious that he dislikes traveling his way.

But at least it’s better than aparating.

The surroundings come suddenly into focus as they ‘land’ in the McClain family hearth and the first sound Keith hears is a surprised squeal of a woman. For a second everything slows as the plate of cookies she’s carrying falls from her hands, heading right for the floor. But Lance points and silent casts a levitating charm to catch the falling dish.

A success judging from his relieved sigh.

“Almost lost another plate mom,” Lance smiles.  

Apparently, this is a common occurrence.

“Mi hijo! Bienvenido a casa!” she beams and comes in for a big hug. Lance returns it while still holding up the plate. Even exchange kisses on the cheeks. “It’s just a plate. You’re early.”

“No, I’m on time,” Lance says, nodding at the clock and levitating the plate of sweets to rest on a table. “Why do you always think I’m going to be late? I’m always on time for you, mom.”

“Oh my! Who is this? You said you weren’t bringing your girlfriend,” she says, taking Keith’s hands in hers and allowing Sumi to drop to the floor to explore. “Hello dear!”

“Your glasses Mom,” Lance sighs and pulls them up from her glasses necklace. “Try again.”

“Oh! Lo siento joven!” she apologizes profusely to Keith and pats his hands. “I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached.”

“It’s fine. I’m Keith,” he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh! You’re Keith! The amazing student,” she exclaims. “With the perfect _bombarda_ ? Or was it... _confringo_? I can’t recall. Lance sends so many letters...ah, well. Corazón! Lancito is here and he brought his friend!”

“That so? Pidge or Hunk?” calls out a voice from the other room.

“No no, his name is Keith, Corazón!”

Lance’s father enters the room, beaming smile under a thick goatee. There’s dirt all over his hands from working in the garden out back but that doesn’t stop him from offering a handshake and apologizing for the mess. He gets potting soil all over Keith’s fingers when they shake hands. With sudden realization Mr. McClain scrambles for a towel from the other room and passes it to Keith to wipe his hands on, all the while apologizing again.

“Sorry about that, uh Keith, was it?” he chuckles.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Keith tells him.

Someone comes down the stairs and leans on the railing to look at them. A woman with the curly brown hair of her mother but cut into a bob. Her face is not dissimilar from Lance’s. The older sister, Keith assumes. She has the same haughty grin that Lance does when he has the upper hand in a Quidditch match.

“Hey loser,” she calls out to Lance with a smirk. “Aww, look at you all grown up. Haven’t seen you in three years. You’re _almost_ a man now.”

“Shut up,” Lance says but then breaks into a smile too. “Where are the twins?”

“Arcade,” she answers with a dismissive wave and comes down into the already crowded living room. “It’s where they _always_ are.” Once she reaches the bottom, she gives Keith the once over before raising a brow. “You have a boyfriend now? When did--”

“What?! No! He’s not--”

“I’m Keith,” he interrupts and shakes her hand. “We’re classmates.”

“Oh, just a friend then,” Veronica nods. “Probably just as well,” she says and then leans in to whisper. “He’s got this hardon for Quidditch that no one can compete with. It’s because he’s curs--”

“Shut up, V!” Lance huffs, his cheeks red. “Anyway. Keith’s family was busy and he doesn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with. So I brought him along.”

“Oh pobrecito!” Lance’s mother gasps and takes Keith’s hands again, patting them gently. Looks like this is going to happen a lot in the next week. “Well, as long as you’re here, you’re family. Mi nuevo hijo. Isn’t that right, Corazón?”

“Of course!” her husband replies with a jovial laugh. “The more the merrier! Welcome Keith!”

Something about them reminds Keith of the Weasley family.

He’s met more than a few of them here and there in Diagon Alley. Loud but incredibly friendly. Nothing but a good word for anyone and everyone they talk to. Good people who love being around their family and all their friends. They aren’t friendly as a formality either, they genuinely enjoy company and making new bonds with the people they meet.

The McClains are just like them, he thinks. Already Lance’s mother is taking his coat and his father is getting him something to drink, pushing a glass of something reminiscent of milk into his hands.

Guess Lance wasn’t kidding. They’re very hospitable.

Keith takes a sip to be polite but finds the flavor phenomenal. Vanilla and maybe cinnamon? Doesn’t matter to Keith as he gulps the rest and licking his lips when it’s empty. Lance’s father asks if he wants another, but Keith shakes his head, already feeling a little too spoiled and they’ve only been there five minutes.

Keith’s going to enjoy this trip, he just knows it. Because for once his presence is noticed. Valued. They like having him here. They want him here. A welcome change from spending his time alone.

“Keith, do you like spaghetti?” Lance’s mother asks with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he nods, feeling himself smile.

“Want to come with me to help carry ingredients for dinner? You can tell me what Lance has been up to at school,” she smiles. “Lancito, you take Keith’s things up to your room.”

“My room?” Lance says, puzzled.

“Where did you expect him to sleep? The couch?” Veronica snickers. “He’s _your_ guest. You gotta give up _your_ room.”

“I don’t mind--”

“Then where am I going to sleep?” Lance whines.

“My room,” Veronica says. “I’m staying with Tia and Tio down the street.”

“But your room reeks! Like a medicine cabinet!” Lance exclaims and fakes gagging. “It’s so gross. I’m not staying--”

“Lancito,” his mother says in a warning tone, her eyes suddenly serious. She starts to slip her sandal off her foot and Lance changes his tune.

“Fine, fine! I’ll stay in V’s room,” he concedes and his mother puts the shoe back on.

“Buen hijo,” she chuckles. “When you’re done, fetch your brothers from the arcade.”

Lance sighs but nods before grabbing Keith’s suitcase by the handle. Takes his own in the other hand and trudges them both up the stairs in heavy steps. Keith doesn’t have time to feel bad for the guy before he feels a tug on his arm. Lance’s mother pulls him with her to the front door, not waiting for him to ready himself and already talking up a storm.

This family is all go go go.

Keith thought they’d be heading to a grocery store. To pick up pasta, sauce, and such. A quick trip. Instead, they hit a couple of outdoor vegetable stalls and spend a good twenty minutes alone perusing the produce. Keith holds onto her basket as she palms and smells the vegetables before placing them inside.

Five pounds of tomatoes. Three medium onions. One whole carrot. And a bunch of fresh herbs and spices that Keith couldn’t hope to identify if he tried. Most of them still on the sprigs and picked just that morning. When she pays, Keith stares curiously at the currency.

Muggle money. He almost forgot that Lance’s parents are squibs. They probably have muggle jobs too.

The only time he’s ever used muggle cash was in Japan a couple of times. His mother gave him some every week, to visit around the city with his secondary school classmates if he wanted. He almost never used any of it. Probably all still in a drawer in his room.

“Still need to pick up just a few more things,” Lance’s mother smiles and takes his arm again to pull him around to the next stop.

“Yes ma’am,” he nods.

“Such a sweet boy,” she says. “And so polite. Your parents must be very proud.”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “I’ve never really asked.”

“Oh pobrecito,” she frowns and pats his arm. “No sad faces at Christmas time. We’ll be your family this year. I’ll make you a Christmas scarf to take back with you.”

He likes her already. She’s so nice and it’s easy to see where Lance gets his generous heart.

“Thanks,” he says with a half smile. “Where to next?”

“More greens for salad. Wine for drinks. La panadería da miel for bread and fresh pasta,” she says and then giggles to herself. “Oh, the ladies will be so jealous. Handsome man like you on my arm--Ay mi! There was a time I had so many at my feet! Beautiful young men with roses and chocolates and promises of sunsets all ready to fight one another for my kiss.”

“You must be exhausted--fighting off all those men every day,” he says, with a smirk.

“Oh! Ha ha ha!” she laughs heartily, patting his arm. “Oh! Si! Si! How very true! Yes, every day is a struggle! Careful Keith or you will be the next to have your heart stolen by--Rompecorazones de Varadero!”

The Heartbreaker of Varadero. How fitting.

Keith laughs a little at how much she reminds him of Lance. He can almost see her as a young lady, turning heads as she swayed down the streets. Sending flirting glances to young suitors and crushing their hearts with a single wink. Her son is just like her with that intoxicating laugh too. What a character.

“I’ll try my hardest to resist,” Keith says with a chuckle as the two of them make their way down the street to gather the rest of the supplies for their dinner tonight.

*****

What’s taking them so long?  Lance lounges on the couch and stares at the fan spinning on the ceiling. He checks the clock on the wall but it’s only been an hour. If his mom wants to make spaghetti with her famous sauce she needs to start soon. The tomatoes need to simmer for a couple of hours.  

Marco and Luis had to be pulled from the arcades. Literally. Lance grabbed one under each arm and tugged until they let go of the joysticks. Who knew that a couple of twelve-year-olds could be so strong? He had to carry them the whole way home to ensure they wouldn’t just run back to their newest obsession.

Lance’s dad put the twins to work immediately once there, having them construct the fake Christmas tree piece by piece. No magic. Which is fine with them since they like building things themselves.

Veronica is in her room, organizing it so Lance will stay out of her things. Not that there’s anything he’d want to mess with in there. Just a bunch of stinky potions. She promised to spray some perfume to help mask the smell but Lance worries that it’ll just make it worse. Sickly sweet flowers plus chemical smell doesn’t sound better in all honesty.

Lance was told to change the bedding in his bedroom, so Keith would have clean sheets to sleep on. He’d be insulted at the suggestion that he’s a pig who’d make his friend sleep on dirty sheets except he hadn’t even considered changing them until his father mentioned it. He finished that up half an hour ago and now he has nothing to do until they get back. Suppose he could _clean_ his room as well but--

The door opens and Lance bolts up from the couch. Yes! Finally! He was getting bored here. At least with Keith, he’ll have someone he can play soccer with. His siblings never liked muggle sports much.

At the front door, Keith’s got half a dozen bags and a basket, all of them overflowing with food and drink for dinner in a couple of hours.

“Have fun?” Lance smirks, looking at all the stuff Keith’s carrying. “That’s what happens when you’re treated like family. You get to do the work like family.”

“No kidding,” Keith nods and peeks over the bag of bread. “Where do I put all this stuff?”

“Kitchen,” he answers. “Follow me.”

Lance leads the way to a small kitchen. Well, it’s small by Keith’s standards. He’s used to the large ones in both his parents’ houses. Multiple appliances and counters. Usually, there are two people preparing food in them at all hours for guests or stable hands. This room only has a stove with oven and a small refrigerator. Hardly seems big enough to prepare all the food they brought back.

Mrs. McClain comes in just as he places the bags on the counter.

“Oh gracias, Keith,” she smiles and squeezes his cheeks between her palms making Lance snort with laughter. Just like one would treat a toddler. “Such a sweet boy! Do you want to help me cook?”

“No mom, give him a break alright?” Lance jumps in to rescue him. He gives Keith’s shoulder a bump with his fist. “Go change into shorts and a tee. We’ll go down to the soccer field for a few hours. Leave your wand here though.”

Keith nods and leaves the kitchen. Five seconds later he returns with a sheepish look on his face.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” he reveals.

“Oh right,” Lance remembers. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”

Quick is right. Bottom floor has a living room, kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. One’s for his parents, the other for the twins. Outside the door next to the kitchen is the backyard but calling it that is a joke. It’s just big enough for a tiny table, two chairs, and a couple of raised garden plots--his father’s pride and joy. Mostly it’s flowers but there are a couple of useful herbs growing there too, courtesy of Veronica.

Upstairs has three more rooms and an additional bathroom. Lance’s room, Veronica’s room, and what Lance’s mother likes to call the ‘craft’ room. She keeps all her sewing and knitting stuff up there so it doesn’t spill over into the rest of the house but it’s not really doing its job. Even as they walk around wild yarn balls can be found on nearly every surface and under every chair. Knitting needles and half-finished quilt squares too.

“Here,” Lance says pushing the door open. “This is my--er, well, it’s your room for the week.”

Keith’s suitcase is laying on the bed but that’s not what catches his eye.

The room is small and compact, like the rest of the house. Space enough for a single bed, two dressers and a desk. A single window to let in light. There are a few shelves built high to hold books and such. Quidditch posters all over the walls and miniature scoring posts in various places with Ciela sitting on one preening. Strewn all over the floor are papers, pens, socks, and any number of unidentifiable objects and food wrappers.

It looks like a garbage dump exploded in here.

“You’re a slob,” Keith comments with disgust.

How did he ever fall for this...mess of a person? At least the bed looks clean and the room doesn’t _smell_ like a trash heap. Just _looks_ like one.

“Yeah, well, it’s _my_ room. I do what I want with it,” Lance huffs with his arms crossed. “I’ll clean it up more before bed, so relax. I’ll be at the front door when you’re ready.”

Lance closes the door and heads back down the stairs.

Keith approaches his bag, pulls out some shorts and proceeds to change. When finished he tidies up a little, throwing a bunch of the trash into a waste bin he finds overturned under the desk. Kicks aside dirty laundry with his foot and into a pile near the closet. Lastly, he takes a bunch of the papers and books from the floor and stacks them on top of the desk.

Much better, he thinks as he takes in the room. It’s still a sty but it’s a livable sty.

Before leaving he makes sure his duolibri is still firmly at the bottom of his travel case. It is. Not that he thinks Lance is the type to go through someone’s personal things. Just to be safe though he wraps the book in a shirt before putting it back down at the bottom and closing the case back up.

“Man, are you taking a shower too? What’s the holdup up?” Lance calls up the stairs.

“I’m coming!” Keith tells him.

“Don’t forget to leave your wand,” Lance reminds him. “You won’t need it.”

Keith places it on his pillow and makes his way down the stairs. Ready to kill some time with Lance until dinner.

At least, that’s what he intends to do before Lance’s mother grabs them both by the collars, scolding them for not putting on sunscreen. She even shames them for not wearing hats to protect their beautiful faces. Once she’s satisfied they’ve covered enough she allows them to escape.

Lance runs down the street with a soccer ball under his arm, calling out to his mom with a smile. Promising they’ll be back in time for dinner and that they won’t fill up on street snacks. Keith nods in agreement and waves at her as he takes off trailing after Lance for an afternoon full of muggle sports.

The start to a great vacation, he just knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	13. The Hanged Man (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended for large sections of this fic to be in Spanish but I thought it might take some people out of the fic if they had to highlight and translate every other line. So I made an adjustment to my chapter. Changed all the large sections of Spanish dialogue to English but _italicized_ them. So if you see big chunks of dialogue that are _italicized_ it means the conversation is in Spanish.

 

_“[This] asks you to turn your world around and view your situation differently. When you do this, you will find something new that will prove to be of greater value to you on a much deeper level. It may be that you have to sacrifice your previous beliefs or even way of life but it is a time of renewal and your life will go forward.”    ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Keith never knew Cuba would be so hot. Literally and figuratively.

They play soccer in a lot with a bunch of locals that Lance seems to know from childhood. He knows all their names and all of which are pleasantly surprised to see him home for Christmas. All muggles from what Keith can tell as they seem to think Lance was away at a normal college in the UK. They ask about his classes and tests and if the men and woman over the ocean are sexy or not. Lance answers vaguely confirming Keith’s suspicion that they’re not in tune with the wizarding world.

Then Lance introduces Keith who just kinda nods awkwardly. They say hello and shake hands and pat shoulders. All in all it’s a very physical group of friends and it goes to show that Lance isn’t just like that. It’s a cultural thing. Feels like he’s learning more about Lance on his first day here than he has in months of knowing him.

At some point in their pleasantries, the lot of them switch to English in an attempt to make themselves understood better as they excitedly introduce themselves. Honestly, Keith wishes they’d stick to their first language. It’s actually harder to understand them when they try to accommodate him. Their excellent Spanish is easier for him to catch than their bad English but he never gets a chance to tell them as much because Lance hurries them along to the field. Less talking, more playing!

They play for _hours_. Hours in the hot Cuban sun running back and forth down the field which is little more than a vacant lot. There are no goals, just posts with a net stretched across. Music from a radio in a nearby car pours out lyrics in Spanish as they run and kick the ball.

Keith feels wildly out of shape for this. His body isn’t used to running this much and not in this heat. Even now his neck is starting to ache and he’s pretty sure it’s because the sunscreen wore off an hour ago. Sunburn. He turns the ball cap Lance’s mom gave him so the bill will cover his neck but it won’t help, he’s sure. The damage is already done.

Lance is having the time of his life and man if he doesn’t look in his element here. The only time Keith’s ever seen him this energetic and confident is on the Quidditch pitch. The biggest difference though is the fine sheen of sweat that he regularly wipes from his face with the hem of his tank. And don’t think Keith’s breath doesn't catch in his throat each time he exposes that stomach.

God, Cuba is _too_ hot--in more ways than one.

After a few hours even Lance is exhausted and he calls the game. They all sit on a curb while one of them goes to get some cold drinks. Lance wipes his face with his tank and dabs it over his neck with a sigh. Keith just takes off his hat and fans his face with it as he catches his breath while pointedly keeping his eyes off of Lance.

He’s warm enough without that. 

“Too hot for you, Güero?” one of Lance’s friends jokes and the others laugh with him.

“Haha,” Keith pants, unamused at the playful jabbing nickname in regards to his paleness.  

“Ignore Juan. You get used to it,” says another by the name of Mateo.

Mateo’s built with broad shoulders and black shaggy hair he keeps swiping out of his face. His English is the best of the group and other than Lance, he’s by far the most attractive one there but he’s wearing a silver wedding band. Obviously taken.

“How you are friends with Lancito?” asks another. Keith thinks his name is Luca. He's been eyeing Keith’s ass when he thinks he isn't looking.  Freckle-faced boy with bleached hair.

“He’s the captain of our...soccer team,” Keith dodges at the last second.

“Capitán!” Mateo shouts with excitement and gives Lance a shove. “I know you could do it. Is he good?”

“Yeah, pretty good,” Keith nods and Lance beams with pride. “When he’s not staying after for...chemistry makeup work.”

“Chemis--Hey!” Lance pouts and Keith smirks. “That was...special circumstance.”

The largest member of their group, which Keith still hasn’t gotten a real name out of but goes by the nickname Gordito, returns with cold drinks for everyone. He hasn’t even heard him speak yet. A short and wide man with the makings of a small mustache above his happy smile. The guy passes out the bottles and all the talking stops so they can soothe their parched throats.

When the talking commences this time it’s entirely in Spanish, giving Keith the impression that it’s meant to be a conversation he’s not privy to. Too bad they don’t know his Spanish is pretty good. He’d have told them all if he’d gotten the chance but what an opportunity. Keith’s excellent at the disinterested poker face so listening in is a cinch.

“ _So he’s in your classes? All the time?_ ” Luca asks, clearly hinting at Keith.

“ _Yeah, we’re pretty good friends_ ,” Lance nods and takes a drink. “ _Why?_ ”

“ _Luca wants to know if he’s single,_ ” Mateo chuckles.

“ _And gay. Tell me he’s gay_ ,” Luca begs and Keith resists spitting his drink.

At least Luca's...candid, is the word he settles on. He wonders if that’s a Cuban thing considering Lance is just as blunt with everyone at Hogwarts. Keith swallows and steels himself into appearing like he’s not eavesdropping on this conversation by watching old cars pass by.

“ _Yeah, I think so. Said he liked a guy at school_ ,” Lance shrugs.

“ _He’s hot. And built_ ,” Mateo admits, flicking an eye to Keith and back to Lance with a suggestive grin. “ _Have you two…?”_

Lance does spit his drink with a snort. Keith maintains his disinterested stare as he drinks his beverage but his heart thunders in his chest. Is that...a bad reaction? He isn’t sure. Lance shakes his head and wipes his mouth as the others laugh a little.

“ _No, we’re just friends_ ,” Lance insists, flush beginning on his cheeks.

“ _Seriously? Just friends? With that?_ ” Luca asks, wide-eyed with disbelief. “ _How do you keep your hands to yourself, man?_ _You don’t think he’s hot?”_

What Lance says next almost stops Keith’s heart in his chest.

“ _Of course I think he’s hot, I’m not blind,_ ” Lance mumbles into his drink. “ _He’d easily clean up to a ten._ ”

“ _There’s our Lancito_ ,” Juan chuckles. “ _Thought we’d have to hit you if you didn’t at least admit that._ ”

“ _Are you jealous?_ ” Mateo elbows him. _“Or is it interest?”_

“ _Neither. I’m...involved with someone at the moment_ ,” Lance admits with a flush on his cheeks. “ _And I care about more than just...good looks.”_

The group of friends breaks into raucous laughter, the lot of them smacking Lance’s back, jostling him, and ruffling his hair. Where is the real Lance, they joke. They can’t believe what they’re hearing. That their Lance isn’t interested in appearances anymore. Shocking, since he used to flirt with every pretty person he ever saw at the dance clubs.

No one was ever safe from flirty, seductive Lance they say.

“ _Get bent,_ ” Lance huffs with a laugh and drinks the rest of his bottle.

“ _Fallen in love, Lancelot?_ ” Mateo asks with a grin. “ _Tell us about your Guinevere?_ ”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Lance shoves and tosses his bottle into a nearby trash can from his seat. “ _None of your business._ ”

It doesn’t look like Lance is truly bothered by their playful teasing. They continue to jab and poke at him, begging for more intel on this mysterious person who’s captured Lance’s eye but he doesn’t budge. Maintains that it’s no one’s business but his. Keith can feel his thundering heart recede in his chest as he calmly finishes his drink.

Lance thinks he’s good looking but isn’t interested in him. Because of his interest in Lion who, personality-wise, he feels more drawn to? So that means...if Keith comes clean and Lance finds out they are one and the same...he knows his physicality won’t push Lance away.

Guess he’ll only find out if he stops hiding. And he’s already decided to wait until after the break. It’s the only thing Keith’s certain about. He wants to tell Lance when they get back. That way things aren’t weird around the holidays.

“ _So if you two aren’t involved, you won’t mind if I ask him to dance at the club tomorrow night?_ ” Luca asks with an excited smile.

“ _He’ll say no,_ ” Lance warns him. “ _He doesn’t like dancing. Not even my considerable charm and skill could get him to try.”_

“ _Maybe he just doesn’t like skinny twinks,_ ” Mateo jokes and Keith barely stifles a snort as the others laugh loudly around them.

No one heard him, thank god.

“ _Haha_ , _you’re so funny_ ,” Lance frowns and shoves Mateo’s face away.

“ _Then he’ll like me, I’m way more macho than you Lancito._ _Tell me he drinks, at least_?” Luca asks and Lance nods. _“Thank god.”_

“ _Yeah, he can handle beer well enough, don’t know about Margaritas though,_ ” Lance smirks. “ _Tequila might kill him.”_

Finally, the group of them look at Keith and he raises a brow in classic form.

“What?” he asks, his face uncertain though he knows what they’ll ask.

“Come dance with us tomorrow night, Keith?” Mateo suggests.

“I uh...don’t dance,” Keith shakes his head.

“Told you,” Lance nods. He takes Gordito’s drink and finishes it off before tossing it into the trash too.

“Drink with us. You change your mind,” Luca offers. “We play pool. Play darts. Have fun.”

“You don’t have to dance, Keith. It is just the mainstay here,” Mateo tells him.

“Just hang out, Güero. Eat good food, listen to good music,” Juan adds in and ruffles Lance’s head with a laugh. “Watch Lancito embarrass himself when he drink too much Tequila.”

“That _does_ sound fun,” Keith smirks and Lance frowns.

“Haha,” Lance says sarcastically rolling his eyes. “I handle Tequila just fine, thanks.”

“So? You come with us?” Luca inquires, hopeful. “Por favor, amigo?" 

“Sure,” Keith nods and puts his cap back on.

The group of them cheer and hug on Keith before tossing back the rest of their drinks.

Choza Salsa will be open tomorrow they explain. Lance introduced them to it years ago. It’s a gay club but pretty much everyone is welcome provided they don’t start trouble. The bouncer there is a huge woman, big enough to split a table in half. Her pretty girlfriend broke a pervert’s nose last week too. So it’s in safe hands. Drinks are decently priced too.

“ _Better believe your friend won’t pay for a single shot_ ,” Luca jokes and elbows Lance. “ _Tell him to wear a tank, show off his guns. He’ll get so many; he can pass them off to us average joes.”_

“ _Hey_ ,” Lance objects, offended that Luca would include him in the average joes section. “ _You think I can’t get my own drinks?”_

“ _You’re old news, Lancito_ ,” Mateo jokes. “ _Your friend is new, a foreigner, and ridiculously attractive. You’ll be lucky if anyone wants to dance with you tomorrow night. They’ll be too busy oogling him._ ”

“ _Very funny,_ ” Lance frowns and looks at his watch. Juan peers at the time on it too and grimaces.

“You should go,” Juan urges, shoving the two of them down the street. “Do not want Mama McClain coming down and beat us for making you late for dinner.”

“Ay, she has such strong arm,” Luca shudders and rubs the back of his head with the memory. “And such good aim.”

The comment makes Lance laugh but Keith looks mildly concerned at the implication. He’s starting to think this sandal throwing thing is serious business with the way they talk about it with such trepidation. Should he be careful not to piss off Lance’s mom? She didn’t _look_ dangerous...but looks can be deceiving.

The group tells Lance to tell his family they said hello and he promises to let them know. And tells them, in turn, to take care of themselves. That they’ll see them tomorrow night. All of them wave at Keith and tell him goodbye and that it was nice meeting him. Makes Keith feel even more welcome here, even if Luca just wants in his pants.

The walk back to the McClain’s house takes twenty minutes so as they travel Lance buys a small bag of plantain chips to split on the way, keeping the bag between them so they can dip a hand in for a snack at their leisure. Keith can’t get enough of those chips and helps himself to more than a few.

Looks like Keith had a good time and Lance is glad. Considering how distant he usually is, with people he does and doesn’t know, he was worried that Keith wouldn’t join in on their game. That he’d want to sit back and watch. But he played just hard as he usually does on the Quidditch pitch, even talked more than a few times with his friends.

So inviting him really was a good idea. He still doesn’t instigate conversation much. But he seems to be smiling more. With any luck by the time their vacation is over Keith will have removed that stick from his ass.

It’ll be nice, he thinks, to see Keith come out of his shell.

Once they get back, Lance’s mother is right at the door waving a hand towel at them. She tells them to hurry and wash up. Dinner is practically ready. When the two of them walk into the house it feels like a different place.

All the furniture in the living room is gone and it takes Keith a minute to see that it’s all been shrunk and moved off to the side. In their place is a large gorgeous dining table with a colorful handmade runner going down the length. The table itself is hand carved with floral designs down the legs and edges. There are enough chairs of a matching design for everyone to sit in too.

Oh man and the smell! Their mouths start salivating the moment they breathe it in. Garlic bread, rich tomato sauce, fresh bowls of salad. More food than they could possibly eat. This is why Lance loves coming home for the holidays. No one cooks like his family does and Keith's about to find out first hand.

“Hurry up,” Lance urges, tugging Keith by his sleeve to the sink so they can wash their hands.

Keith just nods and follows his lead. As soon as they finish they return to find their seats. The twins are already seated with an empty chair between them. They call out for Keith to sit next to them and he does. They're curious to learn more about the classmate that Lance stole away for soccer before they could interrogate--er, interview him. Lance gives him a pitying glance before taking his seat across from them next to his sister.

Lance's parents enter with the main course. His mother carries a serving bowl of pasta in sauce and assures them that there's plenty more where that came from before placing it on the table. Mr. McClain brings in two baskets of garlic bread cut into thick slices and sets them on opposite ends of the table. Once placed, the two of them go back to the kitchen only to return with wine and water to pour into the nice glasses on the table.

This too they have plenty of, so no reason to temper their desire for more.

“Would you like some wine, Keith?” Lance's mother asks.

“Yes, please,” he says and she pours it. “Thank you.”

“What a polite boy,” she gushes as with a smile, patting his head. Lance snickers again at the child treatment and Keith resists the instinct to kick him under the table for making fun of him.

Dinner starts off well. After a quick blessing, they pass around food and talk about happenings around town. Lance's sister keeps conversation going for a while on the topic of a new tree sap she's using in fire retardant poultices. Dragon experts keep asking for it by the barrel but they're having trouble meeting the high demand.

Even his brothers contribute with a talk about the game down at the arcade. They ask Keith if he plays any video games. He admits that he used to. Even has a few systems at his mom's place but hardly ever plays them anymore since he doesn’t visit Japan much lately.

This leads into an interview from Lance's parents that he'd been hoping for. Lots of questions about Keith's family. With any luck it'll last through all of dinner and Lance won't have to worry about any more nagging questions about school life for today. Means he can put off talking about Slytherin for at least another day or two. Or maybe it won't come up for the whole vacation if he's lucky.

In the process of Keith’s talking, Lance learns a lot more about his friend than he ever thought to ask about. Of course, he already knows that Keith's mom is an Auror. What he didn’t know is that she's in charge of the entire Japan branch. It’s more than a little impressive.

Does this mean Keith can speak Japanese? The twins must know! Yeah, he can but he's better at English since that was the only shared language of their household. He hasn’t had to speak Japanese in nearly five years so he’s very rusty.

“Hmm, Ko-ga-ne. That sounds familiar,” Veronica says, tapping her lip and then snapping. “Ah! Your dad, does he work in the States?”

“He does,” Keith nods, surprised. “You met him?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But Kogane is a name I see on a lot of different potion orders every two months or so. He runs a ranch, doesn’t he? For displaced and injured magical creatures?”

This is perfect, even more conversation that strays from school. Lance helps himself to a second helping of pasta as the new wave of questions rolls in.

Keith explains that his father is in charge of a ranch in Texas in the middle of nowhere. It’s huge and mostly houses flying equine creatures whose wings have been damaged or made incapable of flight. Granians, abraxans, and more than a few thestrals over the years. They had a hippogriff for a short time but it’s injury managed to heal so it was returned to its homeland.

The twins have more questions. Did he ever get to ride any? Sure, everything but the thestrals. It’s too unnerving to ride on something he can’t see. What about unicorns? Those aren’t a winged equine, Keith reminds them. But couldn’t they live on a ranch? Keith supposes but he’s pretty sure unicorns prefer forests away from the handling of people. He’s certainly never seen one.

Lance has to admit, he's impressed by how much Keith is talking. Has to be more than he’s ever said in one sitting before and without getting annoyed by the constant probing. Not that Lance doesn’t appreciate it but it feels so out of character for him. Like he’s going out of his way to make sure the conversation never stops.

He’ll have to thank him later for keeping his parents occupied like this.

“What are you studying Keith?” Lance’s father asks. “Lance tells us you’re a good Seeker. Are you hoping to make the house team next year? Go professional one day?”

Crap. Now they’re back on school again. Lance pours himself some more wine in preparation.

“Maybe,” Keith shrugs. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“You like the scrimmage team huh?” Veronica guesses.

She was on it too when she was younger. Only happens in years in which they have too many applicants. It was fun working on a team with people from different houses. But she got chosen for the house team a year later. Grew apart from her Ravenclaw friends because of it. Eventually, she was so miserable she quit and joined the potions club to rekindle their friendship.

“If it had been a permanent team like the others, I probably would have played all four years,” Veronica sighs.

“Oh! Speaking of house teams--”

Lance’s gut tightens as he swallows his spaghetti. Guess it really was too good to be true. He thought maybe he’d have a little more time before this came up. At least until after Christmas.

“I want to get started on your present,” Lance’s mother clasps her hands together while giving Keith a warm smile. “What are your house colors, Keith? Are they the same as Lancito’s? I can make the both of you scarves and mittens for when you return.”

“I’m--” Keith stops suddenly as he looks at Lance.

He’s never seen someone look so ill.

Lance reaches for his glass of wine and drinks the whole thing down to prepare himself for whatever Keith’s about to say. It’s clear he was hoping this conversation would come much later in their vacation. Christ, he looks like he’d rather run away from the table than have to announce his housing assignment. That's saying a lot, considering Lance doesn't run away from much of anything.

Without another thought, Keith clears his throat and announces, “I’m in Slytherin.”

Sudden and utter silence. Could have heard a pin drop.

Lance gapes at him for a few seconds in stunned surprise. He quickly wipes the look off his face so his family doesn’t take notice. Wouldn’t have mattered. Lance’s parents’ eyes are focused on Keith, complete with a slight look of discomfort as they absorb the information. The table is quiet for those few seconds but Lance’s dad is quick to fill in the silence.

“Oh!” he smiles nervously. “That’s...very interesting!”

“You’re laying it on a little thick dad,” Veronica snorts behind her hand. “Just cause his crest has a snake, you think he’s going to _bite_?”

“Sorry, Keith. I-I didn’t mean anything by--”

“It’s alright,” Keith gives an uncomfortable tight-lipped smile. “Slytherin gets a bad rap. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“You don’t seem like a Slytherin,” one of the twins comments. “I never would have guessed.”

“Me neither,” says the other. “I thought you were a Hufflepuff like us.”

“Oh my, I have to get some dark green yarn,” Lance’s mother hums as she tries to turn the subject towards the more positive. “Something emerald I think. I don’t have any that isn’t a lime color. And what about you, Lancito?”

He doesn’t want to lie to his parents but Keith’s already given him an opening. Lance could say he’s in Gryffindor if he wanted. He could sweep all this awkwardness under the rug for Christmas and put it off for another day when he’s more ready.

Keith darts his eyes at Lance’s mother and back to Lance as he drinks his wine, telling him to go for it. That he doesn’t mind being the bad guy. Just throw him under the bus, it’s fine. That or he could join Keith on the awkward train and announce that he too is in Slytherin. It might even soften the blow.

All those options and Lance still can’t get the words out. He chokes.

Keith sees that panic and in turn picks up the slack.

“We’re house rivals,” Keith says as he puts down his glass.

It’s not really a lie when he thinks about it. What conclusions they draw from his words are their own.

“Oh! Oh!” Mama McClain claps with excitement. “Gryffindor then? Ay! I can’t believe it!"

“Yeah, me neither,” Veronica says with a suspicious narrowing of her eyes. “Lance? In Gryffindor?”

“And you two managed to become friends as first years?” one of the twins asks, Keith’s not sure which name goes with which boy yet. “That’s pretty cool. We didn’t make any Slytherin friends until third year.”

“Most first years can’t look past the bias,” Veronica comments and finally Lance has his voice back.

“Yeah, well, we’re more evolved than most,” Lance brags, his confidence returned.

It’s a good look for him.

“Evolved?” Keith snorts. “We had a fist fight on the first day,” he says he scoops more spaghetti. The table gasps with shock before looking at a mildly uncomfortable Lance to confirm.

“Uh well...it--it wasn’t serious,” Lance assures his parents with nervous laughter. “Remember? I wrote you about it. Barely a scuffle.”

“That’s true,” Keith nods in agreement. “We only needed _two_ professors to separate us,” he thoughtfully adds thinking it’ll help.

After all, most of Keith’s fist fights back in secondary school required four teachers to end. Two really is barely a scuffle but Lance’s parents don’t take it well. They look even more mortified at this information.

Whoops.

“Who won?” Veronica asks with a grin and Mama McClain smacks her arm for encouraging this.

“I would have if the teachers hadn’t gotten in the way,” Keith shrugs and eats a mouthful of spaghetti.

“Hold up,” Lance finally interrupts with narrowed eyes and a pointing finger. “The way I remember it, you were being choked out on the floor when they _rescued_ you,” Lance counters. “So if anything it was a tie--in _my_ favor.”

“Lance--!”

“Hijo!”

“We could always go again if you're up to it, _Captain_ ,” Keith challenges his eyes flashing. 

The two of them glare at each other from across the table. The air is tense for a second but Keith snorts just as Lance bursts with a laugh. They’re both smiling and Lance’s parents visibly relax with the knowledge that a fight _isn’t_ about to break out over their dinner table.

“No thanks,” Lance snickers and tops off Keith’s wine glass. “I was still feeling that gut punch a week later.”

“Same,” Keith smirks. “I still can’t believe you spat in my face.”

“Hey, I know a good diversionary tactic when I see one,” Lance claims proudly. “It’s why I’m the Captain and you’re just my lowly peon.”

“Yeah, right,” Keith scoffs as he passes the pasta bowl back to Lance.

Veronica explains to the very confused parents, that this is just how Slytherin/Gryffindor friendships are. A lot of arguing that isn’t really arguing. She’d know, her soon to be brother in law is a Slytherin and they bicker all the time. She was never worried about it coming to blows. Because what kind of idiot would bring someone he hates home for Christmas?

Regardless, Lance’s dad has something to say about it.

“You shouldn’t fight, Lance,” he says, his voice soft.

“I started it,” Keith interjects because it’s the truth and they should know.

“Even so…”

“Sorry dad, we’re fine now. And we haven’t fought since,” Lance says and gives Keith a look. “Right?”

“Unless you count heated DADA debates,” Keith mentions.

“I wasn’t counting those but if I did…” Lance stands and thumbs his chest. “I win most of those fights too.”

“You wish,” Keith says with a roll of his eyes but a smirk on his face.

“A snake and a lion. What a terrifying combo,” Veronica smirks. “Rivalries are fun, aren’t they?”

“As long as no one gets hurt,” Mr. McClain contends.

“Well, I’m glad it all worked out,” Mrs. McClain nods with a kind smile. “You seem like a nice boy to me, Keith. I’m sure you’ll be a good influence on Lancito.”

Keith thinks that’s debatable. If anything, Lance has been a good influence on him.

Lance made him look past his biases and pride. To accept more people into his life. If not for Lance...Keith can’t say he’d have as many friends as he has. No, he’d still be the sour loner with nothing good to say about anyone. Ready and willing to start a fight at the drop of a hat to prove how much better than them he was.

Now it’s all different. And he has Lance to thank for it.

After dinner, Lance takes all the plates to the kitchen as his sister puts away leftovers into tupperwares. The twins fix up all the furniture to turn the dining room into a living room again. Couches returned to a place in front of the hearth and end tables in their proper spots. Keith’s not sure how to help so he joins Lance in the kitchen to find him washing dishes by hand.

Keith can’t remember if he’s ever washed dishes by hand. Or ever washed dishes at all. His cleaning spells aren’t the most reliable so he usually just leaves it for the housekeeper. For Lance, those spells have got to be like child’s play but there he is, using a sponge to clean.

“Why don’t you just use a spell?” Keith asks leaning on the doorway.

“Oh, well, for pots and pans I do,” Lance tells him with a shrug. “But mom’s nice plates are too delicate. Sometimes the spells scratch them. Then I have to do repair spells. And the cleaning one doesn’t like to work on utensils for some reason so I have to wash those by hand anyway. All that extra work--ugh. It’s faster to just...do them _all_ by hand.”

“Hmm,” Keith nods and looks around. “Need help?”

“There’s a towel behind you if you want to dry,” he says.

Keith can’t say this is something he’s ever done before either. Drying plates and silverware. Once Keith dries a plate he stacks it carefully on the counter before moving on to the next one. Feels very...domestic, standing next to Lance and drying plates as he hands them over.

“Thanks,” Lance sighs once his parents turn on the radio in the living room. They’re listening for sports scores on recent soccer games.

“For?”

“For covering for me,” Lance mumbles quietly, just in case his parents come in. “I choked.”

“I saw,” Keith comments but shakes his head. “It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people look so scared to have met me before. Like I might curse them if they said the wrong thing.”

“It’s not their fault,” Lance says. “They...they were just kids when the second wizarding war started. Younger than us and it...was hard on them.”

Keith waits for more of the story, in case Lance is in a mood to share. He is.

“Lots of death eaters were running around and killing muggleborn families and squibs. Not even ten years old and living in constant fear,” Lance explains as he passes a plate. “My mom’s family hid my dad’s here in Cuba for three years. Three years of being afraid to visit Diagon Alley or even leave the house. I can’t even imagine.”

Neither can Keith. His parents never talk about that time much but to be fair Keith’s never asked. He always thought it was a touchy subject for anyone their age so he never pried.

“They had friends killed, you know?” Lance says, eyes tilted down into the sink somberly. “Kids their age who hadn’t hurt anyone. And by students from Hogwarts who followed proudly in their family’s footsteps. Kids killing other kids. Tattooed with the mark and most of them wearing robes of green and silver.”

Lance’s hands still in the sink and he lets out a shaky breath like he’s been holding it all through dinner. He’s trying to keep his composure. Is he...is he going to cry? God, Keith hopes not--he’d have no idea what to do if that happened.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says.

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s history,” Lance shakes his head and returns to cleaning. “But I think about it sometimes and wonder what they’ll think of me wearing Slytherin robes. The only Slytherin on either side of our families. I worry...that they’ll hold it against me.”

Keith thinks about what he’s seen of Lance’s family and seriously doubts it. The McClain’s seem like the type to take everything in stride, to accept everyone no matter who they are. Good people. When the word ‘Slytherin’ came out of Keith’s mouth they looked shocked, like they couldn’t believe it was true. It didn’t line up with what they thought of Keith and their personal experiences. And while they were uncomfortable for a moment, the conversation eventually kept rolling and laughter returned to the table.

Would it have been the same if Lance had been the one to speak? Is it different if it’s family?

“What about your parents?” Lance asks after clearing his throat. He’s ready to shift this conversation’s focus to someone else. “Would they lose it if you were in Slytherin?”

“I don’t know,” Keith shrugs. “My dad was in Hufflepuff. He’s pretty laid back I guess. And my mom didn’t go to Hogwarts. She studied at Mahoutokoro so I doubt she cares about sorting at all.”

“That’s the wizarding school in Japan, right? I heard it’s tough there.”

“It’s...rigorous,” Keith nods his head seriously. “Probably why she’s one of the most dangerous Aurors you’ll ever meet.”

“No offense, but why didn’t you go to the same school as your mom?” Lance asks curiously. “You clearly have the skills for it.”

Keith smirks and takes a plate to dry.

“Disciplinary issues,” he answers and the both of them snort out laughs.

“I don’t know why I asked,” Lance snickers.

“Japan has strict rules on...rule-breaking,” Keith shrugs. “They didn’t accept my application. Shiro--er, Professor Shirogane helped me with my application to Hogwarts instead. Smoothed the way for me.”

“Where did he study?” Lance wonders. Do all the teachers at Hogwarts have to have be alumni?

“Hogwarts. Mahoutokoro wouldn’t take him in either,” Keith smirks. “Just as much trouble as me apparently.”

Lance finds that hard to believe with how nice Shiro is. The professor comes across as a bit of a golden boy so finding out he was a delinquent isn’t panning out in Lance’s head. Can’t imagine Shiro causing trouble for anyone. But if it’s true then something must have set him on the straight and narrow to turn him into such a disciplined teacher.

“He seems like such a goody-goody,” Lance says.

“Now he is. You should have seen him on the dueling circuit,” Keith explains and a faraway look comes over his face. “Ruthless. And brutal. No one could beat him. If Shiro wanted to become an Auror no one could match him. Not even Harry Potter, I guarantee it.”

“Wow, so what happened?” Lance asks handing the last plate to Keith. He then starts putting the dry stuff away in cabinets and drawers.

He had a bad duel. Sabotage. Someone hexed his wand before the match. Turned out to be another duelist who wanted revenge against Shiro for magically blinding them. The blinding was an accident but it didn’t matter, they wanted payback for their ruined career and their pain.

Shiro’s spell rebounded when he tried to cast. Blew his arm away in a single incantation. Disintegrated. He was laid up for a year in St. Mungo’s. In the time it took for him to fully recover he decided he was done dueling. That he’d rather do something constructive with his life instead of destructive. So he went into teaching.

“Huh,” Lance nods, hand on his hip. “So he likes it? Teaching, I mean. Does he miss dueling? Or does he hate it now?”

Keith’s not sure. Shiro was his tutor during secondary school and never seemed averse to teaching Keith dueling spells. Encouraged him to keep practicing but to be careful. To always be prepared for the worst.

_Never use a spell you wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences of._

Keith always thought it was just Shiro being a big fat mother hen with all his warnings but considering what happened to him, maybe it’s just friendly advice from someone who’s been there. Keith’s never had trouble with rebounds where dueling is concerned, but he has been really good at pissing people off. Shiro’s advice is more likely aimed at Keith’s personality than his skills.

So no problems with hating dueling, just the repercussions of not taking it seriously.

“Don’t know if he misses it but he likes teaching, I think,” Keith nods. “Or he wouldn’t do it I guess.”

“True,” Lance nods and checks his watch.

They’re done with the dishes now. Lance tells Keith to go ahead and take a shower if he wants. He’s going to clean up the room a little more so Keith doesn’t have a coronary when he trips over dirty laundry that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. Just the thought that Lance has left dirty clothes in his room for MONTHS while away at school is enough to make Keith scrunch his nose in disgust.

Why does such a slob have to be so attractive? What kind of god--

“Don’t take forever and let me know when you’re done,” Lance says when they stop at Keith’s temporary room. “I usually take a while. Sooner I finish the better. I don’t want to miss talking to my boyfriend.”

Keith missteps, tripping over nothing and faceplants firmly into the floor.

“Jesus dude, you okay?” Lance snorts but pads over to help him up.

Keith wants a giant to come down from the mountains and just crush him to death. A banshee to scream in his ear. A unicorn to impale him on its horn. Just so he doesn’t have to live through this embarrassment.

Did his ankles really turn to jello just because Lance casually referred to him as his boyfriend?

Luckily there’s a shoe nearby that he can blame for the slip up so he knocks it away and under Lance’s bed with a scowl. He takes Lance’s offered hand just long enough to get up onto his knees with a groan and rubs his nose. Thankfully, it isn’t broken from slamming into the floor. No blood either. Good.

“Since when...do you have a boyfriend?” Keith asks, turning his face away as he pulls clean sleep clothes from the top of his travel case.

“Ah...well. I guess I don’t officially but…” Lance bites his lip, looking far off with a sigh. “But I really like the way it sounds. My _boyfriend_. Man...think he’ll mind if I call him that?”

“Probably not,” Keith huffs and closes his case with a click. “With your luck, he’ll be stupidly into it like you are.”

Lance gives off a dopey grin and sighs with a, “I hope so.”

Fuck, that smile makes him weak. Keith needs to leave now before he gives himself away from all this talk. Already his heart is hammering a hundred miles an hour. Doesn’t think he could handle another minute of him gushing over Lion right in front of him.

He excuses himself with a nod. Then quickly goes down the hall and closes himself off in the bathroom to take a freezing cold shower.

*****

Lance tidies up the room but notices that a little cleaning has already been done. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t his mom as she’s repeatedly claimed after he turned twelve that she wasn’t going in his room anymore unless it was to leave a basket of clothes for him.

Keith probably did it, he guesses. Can’t just leave a mess alone where it lies. If he does too much cleaning in Lance’s room he’ll end up inadvertently snooping.

Crap. That reminds him. He should probably hide his porn just in case.

After a quick scan of the room, he finds a gym bag. Hasn’t used it since his first year in secondary school so he snatches it up, unzips, it and drops it right at the foot of the bed. With one arm he lifts the mattress as the other swipes all the filthy magazines into the bag. Jeez...he hadn’t realized how many he left behind.

He picks one up and peruses the pages of Busty Asian Beauties a moment with a suggestive grin. Maybe he’ll take this one back to--ugh. No. He can’t even imagine wanking it in his sister’s room. Feels like crossing a line that he’d rather not. It’s just a room but...ick. He’ll take care of that business in the shower instead.

Lance tosses the dirty magazine into the bag and zips it up. Now where to--ah, there. He shoves it up into his closet behind a pair of rollerblades.

“Nice and hidden,” Lance nods with approval.

Now for his toys. They should all still be in a drawer and confirms this when he pulls it open. Great all still there. He closes it and uses a locking charm on it. Not that Keith can’t unlock it, thanks in part to Lance, but the Gryffindor doesn’t come across as the type to go snooping through locked drawers. Feels secure enough to leave to chance.

For a few minutes, he grabs up dirty clothes, throwing them into a hamper as he goes. That’s when he hears the shower stop. Done already?

Lance checks his watch again. Either Keith takes the shortest showers in existence or he took Lance’s words to heart about wanting to hurry. The door opens and Keith’s already in sleep clothes. Clean boxers and a tank. His hair is damp and sticking a little to his face and neck.

“You could have taken a little longer than that,” Lance chuckles and kicks the laundry basket to the other side of the hall and into his mother’s craft room. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

“I take fast showers,” Keith answers and shakes his head to get water out of his ear. “I’m going to bed.”

“Cool,” Lance nods and exits the room. He points at Keith before he can close the door. “Don’t do anything weird in my room.”

“...?”

“What I mean is, stop cleaning it,” Lance clarifies. “Just--leave everything where it is.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “What, afraid I’ll find something blackmail worthy? With the layers of garbage in here it would take years to find anything,” he jabs.

“Hey, my room’s not a mess,” Lance maintains with crossed arms. “It’s... _lived in_.”

“Good night, Lance,” Keith says as he closes the door.

“Waityoudidn’tsayyouwouldn’tclean--” Lance says quickly as the door shuts then locks. “--my room.”

*****

Keith’s glad that’s over with. Face to face with Lance is...exhausting. He never realized how easy it was at Hogwarts with the small doses.

Lance says three sentences to him in class then goes back to work. Lance says a couple of strategies, to everyone, not just Keith, and then nothing as they run the play. Little bits of Lance that he’s gotten used to. But this all day thing...it’s like being submerged in a shark tank after only ever playing in a koi pond.

He’s not sure he was ready for this transition but it’s too late to go back on it now.

Keith listens for Lance’s shower to start before pulling out his duolibri from his bag. His ink and quill too. He kills the light with a quick spell and casts _lumos_ at the tip of his wand before sticking it into a notch in Lance’s bedpost. Looks like it was used for something similar because it fits perfectly.

Then he waits for Lance by scribbling little designs on the outer edge of the fresh page. Lance arrives a few minutes after his shower ends.

**Sorry if I kept you waiting too long. Feels like days since we talked.**

Keith perks up with a smirk and starts writing back.

 _Don’t be dramatic. It’s only been a day_ .  
**Yeah but...felt like so long because I wasn’t checking the book whole time.  
Better believe I was looking at my watch wishing time would go faster.**

Keith asks how his first day back went despite knowing all he did that day. It’s interesting to see how different Lance views it from how Keith experienced it. Almost exactly the same with the exception of some colorful descriptions of his siblings being pains in his ass. Says that while they played soccer he kept thinking about getting home and talking with Lion.

 **Dinner was...nice.**  
_Nice?_  
**I thought I was going to have to tell my parents. About Slytherin. I really really didn’t want to.  
** **But Keith jumped in to save my bacon. Told them he was in Slytherin instead.**  
**He definitely didn’t have to but he took the brunt of the looks and awkward conversation.**  
_Maybe he didn’t want you to be treated like a stranger in your own house._  
_You talk about your family all the time. Probably knows how important they are to you._  
_It’s what I would have done._  
**Really? :)  
** _Yeah._  
**Awww <3 You like me.  
** _You already knew that._  
**Yeah but now you’ve got me blushing again. You’re a sweet guy Lion. I like the idea of you coming to my rescue.  
** **Just imagine--Gallant and chivalrous Gryffindor scooping up the Slytherin damsel in distress!**  
_I could always draw you in a dress._  
**I know you’re being sarcastic but I would look** **amazing ** **in a dress.**

Keith snorts out a quiet laugh and scribbles the simplest of drawings of Lance as a princess. He can hear Lance snickering loudly in the next room in response to the picture. A few more strokes of his pen create a tower with Lance at the top, music notes dancing around his head. Fair maiden singing and waiting for the knight to come rescue her.

 **Aww, I’m so cute. <3   
** **Where are you in this picture?**

Keith bites his lip as he considers adding himself in. He scratches the pen to paper as he draws a little knight angled just so he only sees the back of his head. Hair pulled back into a long ponytail, sword on his hip as he climbs up a rope to reach the top. He doesn’t color anything in with the exception of his black hair.

 **Aww, you hid your face again. Is your hair really that long?  
** _Not anymore. When I was a kid it was._  
**I bet everyone thought you were a girl.  
** _They did. But I was never really vocal about correcting them._  
**Now I know you have black hair. ;)  
** _More than half the world has black hair._  
**True. Ah! Keith’s cat is in here!!**

So that’s where she went. Keith hasn’t seen her since they arrived. She must have scoped the place out to find a quiet spot to sleep. Veronica’s room must the best candidate for an out of the way place. Sumi’s always liked the smell of poultices and such. Sometimes he finds her in Honerva’s classroom sleeping in a cauldron.

 _Kick her out_.  
**No way. Keith always acts like she’s a nuclear bomb but she’s nice. Ooo! And fluffy! :)** **Bet that’s nice back at Hogwarts. Warm cozy cat to cuddle with when its freezing.** **I’m thinking since he brainwashed my parrot into spewing Gryffindor propaganda (no offense) I’ll convince his cat to love me more than him. The ultimate revenge.** **Take that Keith!  
** _Didn’t he just save your bacon?_  
**Oh right...well, then...I won’t steal his cat but he can’t stop me from sneaking her snacks. I’ll become the** **favorite** **. Uncle Lance gets the best cuts from the butcher down the street.**

Uncle Lance? Since when does he get to be that...to a cat? Keith shakes his head with a fond smile. Whatever, if Lance wants to win over Sumi he can go for it. The cat never liked Keith anyway. It’ll give him an excuse to get his own pet.

The digital clock blinks bright on the desk, flashing numbers to show it’s after midnight.

 _It’s getting late where you’re at. Talk to you again tomorrow._  
**I’ll try but don’t wait up for me. Supposed to go dancing with the guys tomorrow.  
** _I’m sure you’ll have fun with your friends._  
**Not as much fun as I’d have with you.  
** _Flatterer._ **  
** **Who me? ;) Night Lion. Sweet dreams. <3  
**_Night Lance._

Keith closes his book with a sigh and binds it closed with the buckle. He wraps it up in a shirt and buries it in his suitcase before laying back in his bed.

Correction. Lance’s bed. The place he’s slept all his life.

Keith settles his head into the pillow and takes a deep breath. No scent other than detergent. Seems the bedding was all changed. Damn, what he would have given to smell Lance on his way to falling asleep. Doesn’t stop him from imagining Lance in the bed though.

Does Lance sleep on his stomach? Or his back? In clothes or just boxers? Or nothing at all?

Then far less appropriate questions enter his mind.

Did he sleep with anyone here? Boys? Girls? Maybe not, not with his family in close proximity like this. They’d hear him. But surely Lance...got off here? He’s a sexually healthy guy, there’s no way he didn’t and that has Keith biting in his lip with a thought. Lance’s bed...he pulls the blanket off to the side and reaches into his boxers with a sigh.

How many times did Lance lay here and stroke himself? Maybe while looking at some dirty magazine? Mouth agape and panting, face flushed with exhilaration and gasping out sighs in Spanish.

Keith huffs out a low groan, quiet enough he’s sure no one's going to hear him. Just in case though, he grabs the side of his pillow and leans his mouth into it to muffle himself. Keeps stroking, remembering the look on Lance’s perfect face in Transfigurations as pleasure overtook him, his moan as he came into that girl’s welcoming mouth. Keith swallows back another panting gasp into the pillow.

Is Lance any good at giving head? God, what would that _feel_ like? He can guess. Keith closes his eyes and licks his hand, slathers it with warm saliva before returning to stroke more. It takes everything to keep that whine in the back of his throat imagining Lance's wet mouth on him.

God...why is he doing this? Lance is literally in the other room. Ten feet down the hall. One thin wall away. If Keith moans any louder he’ll hear him getting off in here in his bed on just thoughts of his perfect lips wrapped around his cock. Those blue eyes looking up at him expectantly, eager for Keith to finish so he can swallow down his--

Keith bites the pillow between his teeth with a hissing sigh as he erupts onto his stomach. He shivers, brows furrowed as his hips hitch into his now sticky hand. He should feel guilty but instead, he just lays there catching his breath and coming down from that nice endorphin high. 

Technically, the only thing Lance told him not to do was clean his room and this is as far from cleaning as it gets. A few minutes later Keith wipes up his mess with tissues that seem to be in perfect reaching distance from where he is on the bed. How convenient. It's almost as if this wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the previous occupant. Something about that does make him feel a little better.

He crumples up the tissues and stuffs them into the waste bin, nice and deep with the certainty that no one will have to know what he's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Don't know what to say? Tell me your favorite part. Or your favorite line. Leave nothing but hearts. Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that stuff and I'm no exception!
> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	14. The Sun (Upright)

_“This is a time when you will feel enlightened. You can finally see the path ahead of you, and through the hardship you have endured you have attained a new level of insight and understanding. You may have even had a personal or intellectual breakthrough where you have finally unlocked the key to your fundamental ‘being’.”    ---Biddy Tarot_

 

A bright beam streaks in through a small window, landing on Keith’s face warming him in the bed. The sounds of birds chirping just outside are what finally wake him enough to notice how sweltering it is.

Why is it so hot?

Keith raises a hand to his forehead which is already beading with sweat. A quick turn of his head reveals the time for him. Already seven thirty. He’s used to getting up before dawn and for a moment he feels lazy for lying in bed so long.

Lance’s bed, he reminds himself as he sits up and stretches. That’s right, he’s staying with the McClain’s for Christmas. Almost forgot. He expected to hear a lot of hustle and bustle in the house in the mornings but it’s quiet. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s awake yet.

Keith’s stomach gives off a loud grumble, not so subtly reminding him that normally he’d have eaten an hour ago. So he throws off the blanket and shuffles his way out to the hall to hit the bathroom. Rinses his face with cold water from the tap to freshen up before descending the stairs.

Mrs. McClain told him before to help himself to food from the kitchen if he ever gets hungry and he’s going to do just that. Or he was until he hears a noise. Someone’s moving around in there. Peeking in shows Lance standing at the stove, whisking some eggs in a bowl for the hot frying pan.

Long exposed legs in sky blue boxers. No socks, just his bare feet with wiggling toes. Tanned arms exposed in his white tank and lips pursed as he starts to whistle. That sense of guilt washes over Keith when he remembers getting off in Lance’s bed imagining those lips on him.

He didn’t hear him last night did he? No, he would say something. Make a joke, or try to embarrass him. Instead, he just turns and smirks.

"I was starting to think you were gonna sleep all day,” he says. “Want some eggs?”

Keith nods and looks around. “Where is everyone?”

“Early morning Mass. Mom goes and takes Dad. The twins go too,” Lance reveals as he pulls a few more eggs from the fridge, cracking them into the bowl. “Mom said I should stick around here. Didn’t want you waking up and freaking out because no one is here.”

“I wouldn’t have freaked out,” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Ah, it’s just as well. I don’t really do church anymore,” Lance shrugs with a sheepish smile. “But I pretended to be disappointed. Makes her feel better. Moms, you know?”

Lance adds a little bowl of chopped peppers, onions, and cheese into the bowl, whisking it all in. Then he pours the combination into the pan and hits the switch on a toaster to get started on the toast. Once that’s on its way he snatches a spatula from a utensil can and scrambles the eggs around.

Keith just watches as he cooks. Very precise scrapes and stirring as he goes. Doesn’t let anything sit for too long to keep it from burning. Like a pro that’s done this a million times in his life. If his mom is any indication, Lance is probably a good cook too.

Smells good at least.

When it’s near done Lance points at a cabinet and asks Keith to grab down two plates. He can just barely reach them and he has to wonder how Mrs. McClain reaches anything in here. She’s a whole foot shorter than Keith. He discovers too late that there's a little step stool in the shape of a horse near the fridge. Whatever, he probably wouldn’t have used it anyway--he has his pride after all.

He gets a hand on the plates and places them on the crowded countertop. Then Lance scoops out the eggs in equal parts. Looks delicious. Lance sprinkles a pinch of salt and pepper on top, butters the toast and leaves it on the sides, then grabs forks out of a drawer. Once it’s all set he passes a plate off to Keith and nods his head towards a door.

“Let’s eat out back. We can listen for the weather on the radio,” Lance says as they walk. “If it sounds good, we can do the beach for most of the day.”

The little table out back has just enough room for the two of them to eat. And thank god, it has an umbrella to shield them from the rising sun. Lance puts down his plate and snaps when he suddenly remembers something. He runs inside then a moment later returns with two glasses of orange juice and a small radio on a strap on his wrist. He hangs it up and clicks it on before taking a seat and starting in on his food.

Tastes amazing and Keith has to curb his enthusiasm as he eats. It’s too good. Better than the eggs the housekeeper cooks in Texas and that’s saying something. She’s a professional chef. And the orange juice! Freshest he’s ever tasted. By far the best breakfast he’s ever had and he has to wonder if it's because Lance is an amazing cook or if it just tastes so good by virtue of the company he's eating with.

Maybe a bit of both.

They’re halfway through their plates when a big fat owl plops on the table, startling Keith. For a second he thought maybe it was wild but the letters in its talons prove otherwise. Delivery. Newspaper and correspondence. Lance takes them and not so gently shoves the hissing bird to the end of the table.

“Rude ass, we’re eating. That’s what the perch is for, you dick,” Lance huffs as he smacks the owl with the Daily Prophet until he goes to his perch behind Keith. “If you think Sumi is evil, you haven’t met Pan.”

Keith turns and looks at the owl, who looks peeved as hell after being pushed unceremoniously off the table. According to Lance, that’s how the Stygian _always_ looks. A mad and puffed up bread roll, hence the name. He’s eaten more than a few of Lance’s letters and then hacked them up into his shoes.

Speaking of letters, Lance drops the newspaper onto the table and tears open his letter to read. Seconds later he’s pumping a fist.

“Yes! The Slytherin RoR party committee president liked my idea! They’re gonna run with it!” Lance beams. He takes a sip of his orange juice as he reads before putting it down and shuffling to the next page. “Thank you Lotor for backing me. Let’s see...theme is set. Colors. Music chosen too. This is perfect.”

“Why’s that?” Keith wonders as he bites into his toast. “It’s just a party.”

“Wrong! So wrong! It’s not just any party, it’s the _perfect_ party,” Lance corrects, pointing a fork at him. “It’s set up for a night of mystery and romance! It’ll be the most talked about event of the school year.”

Keith snorts. That seems quite the prideful boast but it’s coming from Lance so he’s not too surprised. Mystery and romance, huh? Perfect even? How’s that?

“It’s going to be a masquerade,” Lance tells him. “Know what that means?”

“Cheap costumes?” Keith guesses with a shrug.

“Masks! That’s where my genius comes in,” Lance smiles and looks at the letter again. “When no one knows who you are, you’re more likely to take risks. Talk to that one person. Dance that one dance. Kiss the person of your dreams--without being afraid of the consequences.”

Keith blinks as the gears in his head turn before finally clicking into place.

It’s a party designed specifically for Lion to attend, he realizes. Lance is trying to make ways for them to meet where Lion will be more at ease. Where he can still hide if he likes. It...it’s very clever. And endearing. He should have known Lance would try to arrange something like that.

“Now, here’s hoping he’ll come,” Lance sighs as he returns to his eggs and toast.

Keith’s already decided that he will. Can’t let Lance’s efforts go to waste. Not when just planning such a thing makes him smile like that. Keith can only imagine the look on his face if he meets him in person.

They finish their food while listening to the radio. Looks like the weather is going to be great today. A little windy down by the shore and a small bit of cloud cover. Perfect for a day of swimming and tanning at the beach.

But before they can leave Lance has something he needs to do.

Now is the prime time to give Mr. McClain’s garden some attention. It’s something Lance does every couple of months so everything has a fighting chance. Just a few spells here and there to keep up the healthy blooms. And since he’s at church, Mr. McClain will never even know. Keith watches as he crouches down and swirls his wand a dozen times to perk up the wilting flowers and unopened buds.

How did he ever think that Lance was a selfish, egotistical prick? The things he does for his family, for others...Keith could never go back to seeing him as the puffed up toad he first envisioned him to be. When Lance finishes he stands and thoughtfully eyes his work while holding his chin.

Man, those legs are just...sinfully good looking. The upside and downside to being so close is that Keith can’t help but stare again.

“Alright, let's change, grab some towels and the beach umbrella. We can catch the bus to the beach,” Lance announces as he turns and Keith just barely manages to look elsewhere in time. “Don’t forget to leave your wand.”

“I won’t,” Keith huffs and Lance urges him out of the chair by lifting the back.

“Then let’s get moving!”

*****

This is one of the things Lance missed most about being away at Hogwarts. No hot sand to dig his toes into. No warm salt breeze to breath in. No cool refreshing ocean waves to dive under. Well, he supposes he could dive into the freezing cold lake sometime but--not unless it was hot out and that won’t be for a while yet.

Lance runs his way into the sloshing foam until he’s knee deep then dives right in. The cooling sensation of the ocean embracing him really solidifies that feeling of being home. Like being revived with an oasis after spending months in a desert. He breaches the surface with an excited shout, splashing water everywhere as he grins at the shore.

It’s gotten more popular with the tourists, he’s noticed.

Before there were a good number of foreigners on the beach but now they’re everywhere. They used to stick close to cabanas with bottomless drinks. Never going into the water, not when they have a pool back at their hotels. Now they populate the beach in large groups, sitting in beach chairs listening to mariachi bands, and taking tacky pictures with oversized frozen margaritas.

Keith’s sitting under the shade of the umbrella on the beach. Said it was too hot for him to get burned like yesterday. He doesn’t want to turn into a cooked lobster so he’s applying a healthy layer of lotion before attempting at any tanning. A good idea for someone as pale as Keith is.

When Lance gets tired of swimming and ready for a break, he comes back to their little setup. Two giant beach towels, an umbrella between them, and a cooler full of water for them to drink. He dries off a little and takes a seat to reapply some sunscreen. Keith’s basking in the sun, hands behind his head, with a pair of shades on his face as he soaks up rays.

Keith looks like such a cool customer laid out in the sun like this. Even if he is as pale as a snowman, he still has the physical beach bod. Those toned muscles and broad shoulders glistening with sunscreen. It’s catching more than a few eyes as people walk by but Keith doesn’t seem to notice. Or he just doesn’t care.

What a waste. All those good looks and he doesn’t use them.

Some teenagers stop by to ask if they want to play volleyball with them. Lance translates when people come to talk to them and Keith just shakes his head. He’d rather just lay there and enjoy the sun. His loss, Lance thinks but then takes them up on the offer. He tells Keith he’ll be right over there if he changes his mind but Keith just waves him off, not interested in moving.

*****

The beach is nice here. It’s been a while since Keith’s been to one this crowded. There was a little one in Japan he went to a couple of times but it was a lot quieter. Calmer. This place has a high energy and while it makes it harder to zone out, Keith finds he likes it better. Makes it feel more alive and not so stuffy.

But then it happens. Someone ruins his relaxing time by speaking to him.

 _“_ Hello friend,” says a voice above him. Keith opens his eyes and lowers his shades to look up. “You a tourist? Looking for a good time?”

A group of guys and gals. Four of them. Locals definitely from their accent and manner of dress. The kind that like to pester foreigners they think have money. Tourists that they can mooch off of in exchange for showing them the fun hotspots of the city. Keith puts his shades back in place and gruffly answers.

“ _I’m not your friend_ ,” Keith answers. “ _And I’m not interested._ ”

“ _Oh! He speaks Spanish_ ,” says the girl, clearly surprised but impressed. “ _Ask him again. He’s cute_.”

“ _Now don’t be like that_ ,” the other guy says with a laugh and crouches down. “ _We know all the best places in Varadero. And you look so bored. Come with us, we’ll show you a good time. We’ll be the best of friends before you know it_.”

The man reaches down and gently pulls Keith’s shades, to look at his eyes and offer a smile. Keith supposes he’s trying to come across as forward and flirty but its just annoying. Keith’s jaw tightens but he takes a deep breath before answering.

“How many languages do I have to say it in? I said no,” he grumbles as he sits up, snatching the sunglasses back. “Now get lost.”

“ _C’mon friend_ \--”

“Oy!” Lance calls out as he abandons the game and runs over to rejoin Keith at the blanket. “ _Unless you want a fight, I’d get out of here.”_

“ _Mind your own business kid,”_ the crouching guy says and turns back to Keith. The others pay Lance no mind either. What’s a skinny twig gonna do to them?

“ _Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you_ ,” Lance shrugs and gives him a pitying shake of his head.

The guy reaches out and rests a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “ _Now, friend-_ -”

Keith’s fist flies right into the guy’s nose and he reels back with a cry. The girls squeal and step back as the guy moans, his hands cupping the bleeding nose. His friend kneels down to help him out, pressing a bandana in to staunch the bleeding.

Lance bursts into raucous laughter, clutching his stomach as he bellows and it makes Keith smirk. God, he loves seeing that laugh, hearing it too.

“I told them not to try it, Keith!” he cackles. _“You’re lucky his aim is bad! You’d be swallowing teeth instead of blood and snot if it were me!”_

“ _You son of_ \--!”

The other guy tries to go for Lance, to stop that laughter at their expense. But before he can get a step in that direction Keith kicks out a leg, tripping him into the sand. He lands face first, getting a mouthful of beach and coughing it out in choked puffs.  

Keith didn’t think it was possible for Lance to laugh even harder. And now there’s an audience gathering to watch, some of them chuckling too.

“ _Give up_ ,” Lance wheezes with a grin. “ _You couldn’t have picked a worse target. He’ll lay you out. We both would.”_

At that, Keith stands up and readies his fists, just in case they want to push it.

They do. Of course, they do. Because now they have to defend their pride. Hell, if a foreigner and his friend are going to beat them on their own beach.

The punks are on their feet again. One face is smeared with red from residual blood and the other is still spitting out sand. Sand Mouth suddenly rushes Lance who in turn moves deftly aside. He dodges and gives the guy a shove to throw him off balance onto the ground. Barely any effort necessary and it makes Lance laugh at how easy this is.

Bloody nose swings for Keith and hits his shoulder. Doesn’t matter, it brings him in close enough for Keith to crack his head into the guy’s jaw and throw another punch into his gut, stealing his breath. His signature favorite move.

Lance’s dance partner tries again for him and this time gets a hold of his prey around the middle. He lifts and throws a yelping Lance into the sand before straddling over, knees pinning him and raising a fist. Lance throws a handful of sand into his eyes and just barely avoids the first two strikes as they pound into the beach. He manages to grab those meaty hands to keep them from actually landing any hits but he won’t hold him back for long.

Best to find a way to unseat his balance but he’s really heavy. And damn, he’s strong. Lance is starting to worry he might actually need a little help.

After taking a hit to the side and the mouth, Keith grabs the shoulders of Bloody Nose and lands a hard strike right to the groin with his knee. The pitiable sound that escapes the guy almost makes Keith feel bad. The poor slob didn’t know who he was messing with but he won’t soon forget. Keith pushes him over so the guy can cradle his manhood in the fetal position on the ground. 

Keith's lip is swollen and bleeding a little but he’s none the worse for wear. A quick look over at the others shows Sand Mouth’s hands wrapped around Lance's throat and squeezing. Hard. Lance’s own arms are going limp as he’s starting to lose consciousness.

Without hesitation, Keith runs over and puts him into a headlock, easy to do since he’s already low on his knees. All Keith has to do is squeeze so that’s what he does. Immediately, the man lets go of Lance’s neck to try to stop him. Lance takes deep pulls of air into his oxygen-deprived lungs, gasping and choking.

“Th-thanks, K-Keith,” he rasps.

“Could...use...help,” Keith struggles to say back as the body in his hold thrashes. He growls when Sand Mouth gets a hold on his hair and yanks hard.

Once Lance can see, he punches the punk in the gut twice so he loses all that’s left of the air in his lungs. It’s not at full force but it’s enough. A few seconds later the guy goes slack in Keith's arms. He’s out. Together they haphazardly shove him off to the side.

Looks like the fight is over from where Lance sits on the sand. One guy still whimpering in a ball and the other temporarily unconscious from a chokehold. The people on the beach who saw the start are clapping a little. It's only about a dozen people but it’s more than enough to feel like an audience. There are even a few congratulating them.

Everybody loves when an underdog wins.

Keith offers a hand and pulls Lance to his feet. Lance pats his shoulder with a short chuckle and Keith snorts too. They’re about to burst into another round of laughter but its cut short when someone shouts:

“¡Policía!”

Two uniformed cops are coming down the beach on foot. They don’t look to be running but they are moving quickly down the shoreline. The girls from that group must have called them when it started. Lance turns to Keith with a nervous smile.

“You don’t...have a passport do you? Or like...ID?”

Keith shakes his head no. Figures.

“Then you probably shouldn’t get detained by police,” Lance grins.

He snatches Keith’s wrist and barely manages to scoop up his wallet from the towel as he pulls his friend down the beach. The rest of the stuff can stay. It can be replaced. Or maybe they can come back for it later. But right now getting out of there is the best idea for everyone involved.

Keith lets himself get pulled him down the beach. Warm hand holding tight to his as their feet slap the wet sand.  Lance continues to beam a great big smile as he tugs him up a sandbar and into the crowded streets of the boardwalk. They weave through throngs of tourists as Lance laughs. It’s so contagious that Keith feels himself laughing too.

Feels like...flying for the first time. Wonder and excitement bubbling within. Keith wishes it could last forever.

They eventually find a spot to hide. Between two beachfront touristy stores. It’s crowded enough on the actual street that no one can see them doubled over behind a dumpster trying to catch their breath between laughter.

“This...is the...the best time...I’ve had...at the beach...in years,” Lance pants and laughs. “I can’t believe you...hit that guy!”

“He...put his hand...on me first,” Keith reminds him, his breath just as short. “Plus, you...you warned him.”

“That I did,” Lance nods with a chuckle. He stands up straight and takes a deep breath. “Poor idiot. Thought you were an easy mark. I keep forgetting there are people like that. Sorry.”

“I’m not,” Keith sighs and stands up too. “He had it coming.”

“Yeah, but now we look like shit and my mom is going to murder me,” Lance chuckles.

It’s true. There’s blood on Keith’s shirt from his busted and swollen lip. And a bruise forming on his shoulder from that first hit. The both of them have scraped up red knuckles. And Lance’s neck looks like it has sunburn marks but it’s clearly from being choked.

“Oh, I know!” Lance snaps. “We can go see Mateo! He’ll fix us up. The guy is a miracle worker. _And_ we can get a pizza from his pops for lunch. Runs a restaurant back near the house.”

Ah, but the next scheduled bus pick-up isn’t for another half an hour. So they need to kill time while staying hidden. Lance has a sudden idea and drags Keith into the nearest tourist shop that sells shirts, hats, and knick-knacks.

They hang there for ten minutes as Lance fast-talks the owner into selling them a pair of shirts and hats at half price. To disguise themselves with he explains. He pays and shoves the purchase at Keith, urging him to hurry up and put it on. They pull the shirts on before leaving and walk casually back towards the bus stop.

A pair of cops passes them along the way who don’t bother to give them a second glance in their tourist paraphernalia. Keith in his ‘I went to Cuba and all I got was this t-shirt’ shirt while hiding his face with the bill of his Cuban flag hat and Lance in his ‘I <3 CUBA’ tank with fishing hat and shades.

They might as well be invisible. Helps that Lance is also pointing a cheap disposable camera at things and acting like a complete tourist as he snaps selfies of them in front of tacky stores. Lance laughs a little at how easy it was, shoving the camera into his trunks pocket.

They make it back to their spot on the beach and it looks like everyone’s cleared out. Punks included. And the best news is no one took their stuff. Sweet. Quickly, without dicking around, they grab the towels, cooler, and umbrella before running. Just barely, they catch the bus in time to head back.

“That was...maybe just a little _too_ exciting,” Lance says again as he rubs his sore neck.

“Then why did you jump in?” Keith wonders. “I could have handled it.”

“And let you have all the fun?” Lance smirks but shakes his head, his face more serious. “I’m not about to let someone beat up a friend. Hard to break sticks if they’re in a bundle, you know?”

As he says that Lance rubs his arm with his thumb in soothing circles. There’s no injury there but maybe there was a long time ago. According to Pidge and Hunk, Lance doesn’t like getting into fights, actively avoids them if he can, and Keith has to wonder if it was because there was an incident where he didn’t have all the support he needed. And it went poorly for him.

But because he knows how that feels Lance can’t stay on the sidelines if someone is fighting alone. No wonder he was ready to jump in the minute the brawl started. He didn’t want to see Keith get hurt. An especially warming thought considering Lance was ready and more than willing to dish that damage out on him at their first meeting.

So much has changed. Maybe there are still many more changes to come.

“This is the stop,” Lance says, picking up the umbrella and towels.

This stop is closer to Mateo’s place than the stop they originally got on at. Means they’ll have to walk a bit to make it back to the McClain residence but this just means they can get patched up before Lance’s family sees them like this. His parents would not be pleased to find out they’d been fighting, for any reason. His mom especially. She might actually throw her shoe at Lance if she sees Keith’s been roughed up too.

Keith smells the pizza before he even sees the restaurant. Fresh tomatoes, cheese, ham...and something sweet. Might be pineapple. It’s confirmed when they arrive.  Mateo is delivering a huge tray to a table of loud tourists. American.

God it looks as good as it smells, Keith thinks as his mouth waters. Why does all the food here smell so good? And look so delicious? They don’t even use magic to make it all! Insane!

“Ah, Lancito. And Keith. Welcome,” Mateo greets them. He then grimaces a smile at them. “You look terrible,” he says, not mincing words.

“Thanks,” Lance rolls his eyes. “When’s your break? Could use a little first aid.”

“Hour from now,” he tells them and gives a fluid gesture to a table. “Sit. I’ll bring you a pizza. Double price just for you, Lancito.”

“Hey, it’s supposed to be half price for friends, right?” Lance asks, leveling puppy eyes and pouty lips.

“It will be three times if you will not stop making that ugly face,” Mateo jokes and shoves him at the table. “Back soon.”

It’s a few minutes before Mateo returns with cold drinks for them. Lance drinks half of his down before pressing the cold glass to his swollen knuckles. Keith does the same but for his busted lip. Ten minutes later, Mateo drops off a ham and pineapple pizza for the both of them.

Lance explains through his chewing what happened. His friend just nods in understanding.

Mateo wishes he could have been there, might have been able to keep it from starting at all. He doesn’t fight much but he’s broad and tall, most choose not to engage if he’s there. Says it sucks that Keith had to meet some of the lowest Cuba has to offer with that group. Normally, it’s a beautiful country with friendly people but like anywhere else it has its thorns.

Keith understands. Japan has its fair share of ruffians too and they’re more vicious than those punks were.

More than a few times he’s had to draw his wand in a dark alley and it got him in trouble with the local ministry. Luckily, it got smoothed away with the knowledge that it was self-defense. That and Keith’s family gets a bit of special treatment there. They usually just issue a few memory erasing charms to deal with it and a slap on the wrist for Keith.

“Break in ten,” Mateo reminds him, looking at his watch. “Meet in back. I will patch you up.”

“Great,” Lance nods and shoves the last of the crust into his mouth. He tosses down a little cash for the bill and gestures Keith to follow him.

They stand out back where the dumpsters sit but are careful not to touch them. Full to the brim and stinking of trash but it’s away from the street. No one can see them back here. Mateo comes out a few minutes later, closing the door and checking down the alley. He wipes his hands on his apron and nods at them.

“So what need treating? Before Mama McClain see you?” he asks.

“Keith’s lip for starters,” Lance points. “Look at it.”

“Probably just needs more ice,” Keith finally speaks, licking the blood a little. The swelling's gone down a little since he soothed it with his cold soda.

Mateo hooks his foot into a stool that’s been left out into the alley. Probably for sitting and smoking on so the waiters don’t have to lean on the trash heap or sit on the dirty ground. He points at it, asking Keith to sit so he can get a better look. Once he sits, Mateo takes his chin in his hand and turns his face with a frown.

“This will not be easy, Lancito,” he says with a raised brow.

“Yeah I know but--” Lance starts with his hands clasped together and ready to plead.

“Yes yes, I know. _‘You are the best, Mateo. Please help me, Mateo.’ I need to stop falling for your empty flattery. Gets me every time_ ,” Mateo sighs.

“ _Empty? I mean every word!_ ” Lance promises, a hand on his heart.

“Uh huh,” Mateo snorts and then levels his eyes at Keith. “Hold still, amigo.”

In one swift motion, he pulls a wand from his apron, points it directly at the swollen lip, and begins silent casting a spell. Keith’s eyes go wide and it takes everything he has not to recoil in surprise as the wand lights up with a flash of blue light.

He doesn’t even catch the exact gesture used before warmth fills his busted lip. Soothing heat. Then his lip goes suddenly cold and feels significantly smaller. When the light dies Keith licks his lip to find it’s closed up and normal size. No blood at all.

“Muy bien,” Mateo nods. “What next?”

“You’re a wizard?” Keith blinks in disbelief.

“Sí, why do you ask--?” Mateo blinks with confusion of his own but then he hears Lance laughing behind him. Mateo understands all of a sudden and he socks Lance in the arm hard. He follows up by jabbing a finger in his direction. “ _You didn’t tell your friend I was a wizard? What? So you could scare him? Shame on you, Lancito!_ ”

“ _I thought he’d have figured it out_ ,” Lance contends, his hands raised to protect himself from another of Mateo’s hits. “ _You immediately knew he was one. I thought it went both ways._ ”

“ _Because he is a classmate of yours, of course, I knew! But he can’t tell, not by looking! You idiot! If he jerked while I was casting that--_ ” Mateo hits him again and Lance begs for mercy. “Lo siento, Keith. I thought you knew. I would not cast on you if I thought you did not.”

“Are...the rest of those guys wizards too?” Keith wonders.

“Luca and them?” Lance asks and shakes his head no. “No, they’re muggles. They have no idea. It’s illegal to tell them, you know?”

He never would have guessed Mateo was a wizard too. Nothing hinted to it at all. He holds himself like a muggle and he didn’t mention anything to make Keith think he was a member of the magical community.

Mateo isn’t much older than them, maybe by three years but Keith doesn’t remember seeing him at Hogwarts. He must be attending a different college. Isn’t there one in South America somewhere? Keith’s not sure since he wasn’t interested in applying anywhere but Mahoutokoro and Hogwarts.

Regardless, Mateo does a good job playing the part of the clueless muggle with the others. So does Lance for that matter. Keith has to wonder if he himself gives off a certain air.

“My break will end in five. Any more?” Mateo asks again, checking his watch.

“Yeah, knuckles, same treatment,” Lance says grabbing Keith’s hands and shoving them forward. Then he brings his own up for inspection.

Mateo points the wand and casts the spell one by one to soothe their swollen fingers. He clears the bruises from Lance’s neck in no time. Removes the scrapes and swelling in seconds. Virtually painless too. Keith’s been to witches who don’t cast as well as this. He can only imagine how good he is at bone repair or deep cuts.

Lance wakes Keith from his thoughts when he pulls at Keith’s sleeve to expose his shoulder. Nearly makes his heart stop when his hot finger taps the huge bruise there.

 _“Can you do anything about that?_ ” Lance wonders. “ _Can’t have mom seeing it. That chancla will have my name on it. For the next week.”_

“ _Please, Lancito. Give me a challenge would you?_ ” Mateo laughs with a roll of his eyes.

Another incantation but this one takes a little longer. Feels like when his foot falls asleep. Tingling little pinpricks. Not painful by any stretch but definitely unnerving. Especially with Lance’s hand holding him still for the procedure.

“There,” Mateo nods and slips his wand away. “Feel alright?”

Feels better than alright. It feels great, fantastic even. Keith rolls his shoulder and finds it isn’t sore at all. Almost like he never got hit in the first place.

What’s Mateo doing sliding pizzas when he could be working in a wizard’s hospital?

“Where are you studying? This is better than most healing I get,” Keith comments.

Mateo raises a brow before both he and Lance snort out laughter. If it’s a joke Keith doesn’t get it. As a final favor, Mateo removes the blood from their clothes, directing it into the dumpster. He slides the wand back into a hidden pocket in his apron before dusting off his hands.

“If that is all you need, I must get back to work,” Mateo says, gesturing to the building with a smile. “ _Be more careful Lancito--I can only heal so much.”_

 _“I know,”_ Lance contritely nods with a sigh.

 _“I’ll see you two tonight_ . _Dress nice and bring your best moves,_ ” Mateo winks.

 _“Always do,_ ” Lance grins with some finger guns. “ _Thanks again, Mateo. You're the best._ ”

Lance gives him a big hug and thank you kisses on both his cheeks before he lets him go back inside. Time to return to the ovens, he says, to make pizzas that won’t make themselves. Though with Mateo’s skill he could easily arrange it.

With that, they pick up their things from the front and start the trek back to the McClain residence. It’ll take about twenty or so minutes so they get moving. Before long they pass by the soccer lot they were playing in yesterday. Different kids are there now. Younger and a few wave at them as they pass.

“Mateo’s muggleborn, you know,” Lance reveals as they walk. “His parents could only afford secondary school. So he never went to a college. Mostly he’s self-taught.”

That can’t be right. Mateo only has a secondary school education but he can heal like that? There has to be scholarships or grants or something. Someone of that skill--it’s a tragedy he isn’t being afforded the opportunity to build on it.

“He should be going to school for healing magic,” Keith says and rolls his shoulder again. Still feels great. No side effects whatsoever.

“Happens sometimes,” Lance continues. “I got lucky. My parents, they’re squibs but they came from pretty good magical families. I can afford all four years, thanks to my grandparents and saving up. My sister helped pay for the twins to go too.”

More things he didn’t know about Lance. Keith’s never had to worry where the money for his schooling would come from. His parents are well off and both families are fairly affluent in their respective countries. It was never a question of whether or not he could afford school, even if he was shite at magic.

But for the McClain’s...if they hadn’t been careful with their spending, Lance may never have made it to Hogwarts. And Mateo--he couldn’t afford it at all! Even though he clearly shows the aptitude for a valuable skill.

Seems silly but Keith’s just now realizing he’s led a privileged life. It isn’t fair.

“You made his day with that compliment,” Lance smiles. “He always thought he’d do well as a healer but his family can’t afford to send him away and they can’t afford to not have him at the restaurant.”

“That...sucks,” Keith settles on.

“Yeah, but don’t feel too bad for him. He’s happy,” Lance assures him. “And plus, his family never has to worry about a doctor bill their whole lives. There’s always an upside he says.”

They walk in silence for the next few streets. Keith holds onto the beach towels and Lance swings the cooler back and forth as they march their way up a hill. There’s a whistle on his lips as they go and Keith finds himself nodding to the tune.

Keith's glad that Lance made it to Hogwarts. And he’s glad that Mahoutokoro so sternly declined his application. If either of those things hadn’t happened then they’d have never met. They’d have never fought or had such an exciting rivalry. They’d never have become friends. He wouldn’t be here, learning all these things about Lance.

He never realized how much of his current happiness is contingent on Lance just being present. Lance, who is now hooking an arm around his neck with a grin.

“Cheer up man,” Lance tells him. “You always look like someone stole your dog.”

“Sumi’s a cat and she’s not mine,” Keith says, brows furrowed. “And if someone managed to steal her...I’d throw a party.”

“Pfft! You? Party? I’d pay to see that,” Lance laughs a little and smacks his shoulder. “Come on, we’re almost home. We can chill with the twins. Play some video games to kill more time before dinner. And then...club time.”

*****

Dinner is not the big affair it was the night before. Lance’s parents are running over to an Aunt’s place to prepare for Christmas Eve shenanigans. Something about a Tamale making party tomorrow and they need to prepare the snacks for workers. So they tell the children to warm up leftovers when they get hungry. Should still be plenty of spaghetti left from last night.

Before leaving, Lance’s mother grabs the children by their faces and gives them each a little parting word.

Don’t stay up too late for the twins. They get cheek kisses. Make sure to wash your face before you go to bed for Veronica. Apparently, she has a habit of sleeping in makeup when she goes out with friends. Her daughter gets a top of the head kiss. She tells Keith not to drink too much, Cuban Tequila isn’t easy on newcomers. And not to take drinks from strangers.

“Do you hear me, hijo?” she reiterates in her motherly tone. “Don’t want anything happening to my boys.”

“I’ll be careful, Mrs. McClain,” he promises as she squeezes his cheeks again.

“Buen hijo,” she smiles and kisses his forehead before turning to Lance. “No brawling, Lancito.”

“I haven’t started a fight since secondary school, mom,” Lance sighs. He doesn’t count the first day at Hogwarts since he was baited. “And calm down will you? It’s just Choza Salsa. No one’s going to cause trouble. We’re the nicest guys at Hogwarts, right Keith?”

Lance gives him a look that suggests he better agree or Mama McClain won’t let them leave.

“Yeah,” Keith tries to smile. “We won't start a fight, Mrs. McClain.”

“Won’t say no to finishing one though,” Lance mumbles under his breath while elbowing Keith, who smirks with a nod in return.

“Well then...be safe. And do not to stay out all night,” she says giving them hugs. “Tomorrow will be a full day and I do not want you spending the whole time with hangovers.”

Lance nods to let her know they won’t get too sauced. And they’ll get home before midnight at least. And they won’t take candy from strangers and they’ll look both ways before crossing the street. She gives Lance a little playful smack and then leaves with her husband.

The moment she’s out the door Veronica tosses them two small vials. Hangover cure she developed, patent pending. They can drown themselves in margaritas if they want. Just drink it before going to sleep. Should be good.

“You’re the best V,” Lance winks and pockets it.

“Yeah, well. If you turn purple just uh...take a hot shower,” she shrugs.

“That’ll help?” Keith asks, inspecting the vial. Even looks like grape juice.

“It won’t hurt,” she grins and pats Lance’s shoulder. “I’ve got work to do. See you two tomorrow.”

The twins will be staying at the house, ready to let them back in when they’re done dancing and drinking. Apparently, them having run of the house is a very normal thing. Lance jokes that they’re more responsible than he is most days so the place should still be standing when they return. But for now, they need to change if they want to look their best.

Keith didn’t exactly pack much in the way of club clothes. Not that he owns many.

He pulls on a pair of nice khaki shorts along with a plain tee-shirt. He sweeps his hair back and grabs one of Lance’s caps from a hook on the wall. Looks a hell of a lot better than the tourist crap he was wearing. Lance is going to tell him it’s boring and isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see a frowning face.

“Lame,” Lance comments and looks him up and down. “And you look like a tourist.”

“I don’t...have anything else,” Keith huffs as he takes the hat off.

“Move aside,” Lance says as he pushes his way in.

He pulls open a few drawers and throws a couple shirts onto the bed. Brightly colored tanks. Then another drawer and tosses some pants too. Lance is digging in his closet for some shoes and throws them out one at a time.

“Try some of those,” Lance says as he squashes a fedora on Keith’s head.

“They won’t fit,” he tells him.

“The shirts should but I can enchant the shoes to the right size,” Lance says. “If you’ve got a nice pair of jeans, they’ll look better than the shorts. Can’t look sloppy or they won’t even let you in.”

Lance grabs a few of the items he intends to wear and begins changing right there.

Keith averts his gaze as Lance pulls his shirt off and absentmindedly tosses it on the floor. Right, this is Lance’s room. Of course, his clothes are here so he’d change here without a second thought. Keith’s not trying to be nosy but...his eyes wander.

There’s a mark on Lance’s back. Some kind of nasty scar that Keith pretends not to see the moment his eyes fall on it. It spiders out from his back, nestled between his shoulder blades. It’s old, at least a year or more he guesses from the loss in color. No pigment, just raised and white.

Keith makes no comment but he does have to wonder what happened. A magical injury? Or something else? Feels like a question he hasn’t earned the right to ask about yet.

Finally, Lance tugs on a colorful floral short sleeve button-up which he buttons but leaves the top ones open to expose his chest. He doesn’t like the color so he casts a spell on it, cycling through a few color schemes before settling on a pale blue with pink accents. Goes great with his dark blue skinny jeans and comfortable dancing shoes. He even throws on a necklace, a thin short golden chain that rests at his collarbones.

Apparently going to a dance club in Cuba is a big deal with how serious Lance is taking his appearance.

“Well, you gonna change or what?” Lance raises a brow.

“Uh, yeah,” Keith nods, waking from his staring.

He tries not to think about how he’s undressing in front of Lance. Or that he’s about to wear some of his clothes. He’s never been a prude by any means but...with Lance it feels different. Exciting in a nervous sort of way.

There’s a black tee-shirt with a couple of narrow purple neon stripes that write out ‘Viva Cuba’ on the bed. It looks the least flamboyant so Keith grabs it and quickly pulls it on. It’s snug but that's not surprising. Lance wears a lot of shirts that hug his body and shows off his shoulders. This one’s a little tight on his arms and makes Keith feel bulky.

Another shirt lands on his head as soon as he’s got his jeans and belt situated.

“Wear that one with it,” Lance says. “Matches best and we won’t even have to change the colors.”

It’s similar in style to the one Lance is wearing. Collared, short sleeves with buttons. A nice breezy cotton like the tee he’s wearing. White with subtle vertical stripes. Keith slips it on and after buttoning it turns for Lance to look it over.

Lance furrows a brow in thought and shakes his head.

“Nevermind, lose it,” Lance grimaces. “Just the shirt and uh...let’s see. No fedora, looks weird on you.”

Lance takes it and puts in on his own head. Keith has to admit it looks much better on Lance. Frames his face well.

He says something about traditional Cuban style not fitting right with Keith’s look so they’ll lean into something a little more modern. Luckily, there’s time to pull it together before the club opens. Lance then grabs him by the arm and abruptly drags him to the bathroom.

Another thing that he feels is going to happen a lot during this trip, this tugging thing, and Keith’s finding he minds less and less each time Lance puts his hands on him. Like exposure therapy, he tells himself.

“Gotta have something I can use around here to make you presentable,” Lance mumbles as he rummages through packed drawers.

Almost feels like he should be insulted but he’s come to learn that Lance’s bluntness is usually without malice.

Lance latches a couple of black corded necklaces around Keith’s neck. Then clips a few fake earrings onto his lobes. Keith then has to hold his breath as Lance combs some gel through his wild head of hair in an attempt to tame it back a little. Slicking it out of his face and keeping it from hiding his eyes.

Despite his griping about it, feels like Lance is having a grand ole time giving him a makeover.

Lance asks about makeup but Keith shakes his head with a ‘no thanks’. When finished he turns Keith around a couple of times, humming as he reviews his work. Like he’s trying to figure out what’s off. He snaps his finger when he finds the problem.

“Hold still,” Lance says as he draws his wand again. He taps the tip to Keith’s thigh and with a quick chant, the jeans become a deep garnet instead. “Sorry but the whole all-black thing is just too boring. I’ll change it back later. Or you can do it yourself. What do you think?”

Keith looks himself over in the mirror, turning to eye the ensemble from all angles.

He doesn’t feel all that different and, in his opinion, he’s not sure this style is for him. But he does like the red jeans. And his hair looks pretty good. He’s surprised that Lance was able to get it under control enough to style it. He’s also surprised he didn’t pass out with Lance’s fingers delved into his hair.

“Looks alright,” Keith shrugs.

“Alright? Man, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be full of themselves. You look great!” Lance says as he steps back and checks himself in the mirror. “And of course, I look awesome. Ah! I almost forgot.”

Lance rifles through a drawer and pulls out a spritz bottle of some sort. He pops off the cap and sprays once on his wrist before rubbing it in at his neckline. Smells familiar to Keith and the memory of inhaling Lance’s tie in Transfigurations is brought to the forefront of his mind. It’s the same smell.

“Want some?” Lance asks, gesturing the bottle at him. “It’s really strong so you only need, like, a drop.”

Keith nods and takes the bottle. He mirrors Lance’s procedure with it, a quick spritz and rub before handing it back. God, it smells so incredible he finds himself smiling as he sniffs his wrist.

“Good right?” Lance nudges his arm. “That’s my secret weapon. Everyone loves Cuba Gold.” Lance tucks the bottle back into the drawer and closes it with his hip. “Come on, I still got to adjust your dancing shoes.”

“I’m not dancing,” Keith reminds him but follows him down the hall.

“Yeah I know, but they look nice and they’ll complete the outfit,” Lance says and then mumbles to himself. “ _Hell if any of my friends are showing up at a club not looking like they belong there_.”

Keith has no idea what the night has in store for them when they head out the door. Lance yells at his siblings to behave and not eat all the sweets. And to be sure to answer the door when they come back. They respond with the usual ‘yeah-yeah’ so the two of them head out.

With the sun gone it feels cool out. Refreshing instead of sweltering like the day. A welcome change that makes Cuba feel like an entirely different beast in the night.

Keith follows alongside Lance as they travel down the street lit with the yellow glow of electric lamps. Music and nighttime radio shows can still be heard in the houses they pass. And there are still several people walking to and fro chattering away in Spanish, some in nice clothes of their own. Excited and ready to party.

It’s almost as if the night is telling them that it’s only just begun and that there is still so much to see and do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	15. The Nine of Cups (Upright)

_“[This] usually refers to an emotionally fulfilling situation, such as the strengthening of a romantic bond, the solidification of a friendship or the consummation of a sexual relationship. It shows that joy and happiness are within your grasp...It is a sign to enjoy the abundance of life and to feel each of your emotions as if you had never felt any of them before.”    ---Biddy Tarot_

 

So this is what a gay club in Cuba looks like.

The edifice is no different from the few clubs Keith's been to in Japan. And the only reason he knows what those look like is because his classmates dragged him along in late secondary school. He never wanted to be there and secretly he hoped a riot would start up so he'd have an excuse to get into another fight. At least then it'd be exciting. Fun.

This place looks no different. Modern looking building and well taken care of. Bright neon lights on the outside asking passing folk to 'come dance' and 'best margaritas in Cuba'. He wonders how true that last one is.

While it looks like any other club he's seen the music sets it apart. No techno or pop pouring out the door. No heavy baseline beating like a heartbeat that one can feel down the street. It's all acoustic. Sounds like a live band and at the moment they're playing a tango of sorts.

The people walking in and out of it are a breed apart too. Everyone is dressed so nicely. Not like the youth of the big cities. Well pressed button-ups and slacks or jeans for the men. Flowy backless dresses in every color that stop just at the knees for the ladies. Some wear halter tops with short flared skirts.

Regardless of what they choose to wear, all their clothes sparkle and shine--if they don't then their necklaces sure do. And their hair! Nearly all have their locks properly curled, braided, or styled fashionably. Everyone looks like they are meant for a spectacular night in a fancy ball, let alone a club.

Means Lance wasn't kidding. If Keith had shown up in those shorts and casual wear he'd have been turned away at the door.

When they get to the entrance a hulking woman in a tailored suit mans the front door. Hair dyed purple with pink streaks. Big square jaw and a scar under her right eye. With her hands on her hips, she looks even broader. Like a bulwark.

She spots Lance, squints suspiciously, and then beams with a sharp looking smile. She waves him to the front. When they get close, Keith feels dwarfed next to her in terms of height and width. Hell, everyone who walks by her does. She immediately gives Lance’s shoulder a smack that Keith expected to shatter bones but he just shrugs off with a wince.

"Lance!" she laughs heartily, no accent whatsoever. Not a Hispanic one anyway. Her voice is deep. Rough like sandpaper. "When'd you get back?"

"Yesterday. For Christmas break," he tells her and she gives him a big hug, nearly taking all the air out of him.

"I didn't get you anything for Christmas. I didn't know you'd be here," she says with a frown. "Cover's on me tonight. For you and your...?"

"Oh! Yeah, this is Keith. Kogane.  Friend from school," Lance says pushing him forward with a hand on his back.

"First time in Cuba, Kogane?" she asks.

"Yeah, nice to meet you..."

"Zethrid," she chuckles and shakes his hand. Good god, she could break his arm with nothing more than a flick of her wrist. She doesn’t of course, just gives him a gentle shake. "Have a good time. Oh Lance, let Ezor know you're in. She'll get you a drink on the house. Merry Christmas."

He wishes her a Merry Christmas back and she stamps their hands. The purple ink tingles a little as it dries. The symbol looks vaguely familiar to Keith but he can't place it. With that Lance leads him inside into the sound and warmth of the club.

"She has a weird name," Keith comments, still looking at the stamp.

"She's not from here," Lance tells him and leans in close to whisper. "It’s Giant in origin. Granddaughter of a half-giant. She graduated from Beauxbatons with her girlfriend about eight years ago. They run this place."

This city is crawling with wizards in plain sight it seems.

Lance gives him a little history lesson on the place. Run by two witches who graduated at the top of their class in France. Why are they in Cuba, running a muggle gay club? Because Ezor thought it would be fun and Zethrid can't say no to her. Lance's sister was Ezor’s pen pal during their years at their respective colleges. Talked about Cuba all the time and she decided it was exactly where she wanted to be.

Ezor studied a lot of potions and runes. That’s what’s on his hand by the way. The design is a protective sigil with a special ink she devised. Soaks into the bloodstream to render certain drugs useless. Makes it the safest club in Varadero and no muggles even know why. They just know they love it here and keep coming back for a great safe time.

The club is bigger than it looks on the outside making Keith wonder if it's some kind of undetectable extension charm. Not too noticeable to the eye of the everyday muggle but Keith gets the distinct feeling it's a little wider and taller than it should be from what he saw outside. Clever but if they’re not too careful the ministry will crack down on them for it. Luckily it’s fairly subtle and highly doubtful any drunk muggles will notice.

There's a long bar off to the side with several attractive people in white button-ups and vests tending it. Half of the stools have people on them now, patrons already flirting with the lovely people serving drinks. There's a large open dance floor right next to a low stage. The floor has a dozen people on it and Lance promises him in an hours time it'll be so thick with dancers he won't be able to see the band on the stage.

The lights strung up around the premises flash and change at different intervals. Slow enough that he wouldn't say they were strobing but random enough to keep one guessing on which color would come next. Several standing tables with couples at them surround the dance floor. Further back is a section with normal booths and further than that are two pool tables and a couple dart boards. No one's at them yet but after enough dancing, some will take a break to rest their legs and play.

Everyone seems to know Lance as they walk in. Lots of 'heys' and 'I didn't know you'd be heres' and 'save a dance for mes' coming out of every other person they pass. More than a few comments on Lance's cute friend. Asking in Spanish if he's available or if he speaks Spanish. Keith decides to play dumb as it'll decrease the chance of any of them talking to him at length. One of them, a guy in his early thirties maybe, welcomes Keith and gives him a margarita, his treat.

First free drink of the night. Keith's not going to complain about that and thanks him before drinking. Fruity. Keith's not usually one for sweets but the chase of salt on the rim balances it out nicely. Actually, they're pretty refreshing so Keith takes another long sip.

"There's Mateo and the others," Lance points to a standing table and the mentioned wave at them. "I'm gonna say hello to Ezor. Be back in a minute."

Lance goes to the bar and leans on it. Full flirt mode to a woman with a high rainbow colored ponytail who looks just as cheery. Ezor, Keith guesses. She gives him a kiss on his cheek and mixes him a drink as they catch up.

Keith joins the others who are already swaying a little to the music, ready to dance. They’re just as fashionable as everyone else and all say their hellos and pat Keith's shoulder. They tell him he looks fantastic and congratulate him on his first drink of the night.

It won't be the last one he gets, they promise him.

*****

Lance spends most his time dancing it up with several partners when the music picks up. Fast dances for fast songs, spinning girls on their high heels and dipping them with his face close to theirs. Salsa. Tango. Rumba. Keith's able to distinguish the different dances from the steps and the tempo and from seeing them a dozen times. Lance dances with anyone and even dances with Juan for a song or two.

So he can dance with friends without it being overtly flirty, Keith notes. Then maybe he could--he shakes his head and downs a gulp of his third margarita of the night. He’s not going to entertain that line of thought. Not even for a second.

Every time his glass empties, another mysteriously shows up, compliments of someone new across the club. Half the time he hands them off to Gordito or Luca. Otherwise, his blood will be 80% booze before it even hits nine o’clock.

He plays darts with the others for a while. A couple of rounds that end with Keith losing nearly every time. He gets pointers from the others, especially Luca, but it’s no good. He’s got terrible aim and there’s no cure for it.

Luca spends most of the time flirting with him but Keith's excellent at looking confused. Like he doesn't understand or that there's a cultural barrier preventing him from getting the jokes. Doesn't seem to bother Luca any. He just keeps on trying to chat him up with an interested smile on his face.

"Why you not like to dance, Keith?" he asks as he leans forward and closer to Keith.

"I don't know how and I don't want to look like an idiot when I mess up," Keith says as he puts down his empty glass.

The waitress brings him a new one, courtesy of the lovely lady in the red dress. Keith recognizes her as someone Lance has already danced with twice tonight. He takes the drink with a nod in her direction to thank her before turning and handing it off to Luca who takes it with a grin.

“Gracias, Keith,” Luca sips.

“Can’t drink them all myself,” Keith sighs.

"Pool, Keith?" Mateo offers.

It would take him out of line of sight for a while. No strangers to see him and send even more drinks his way. Not that he's not appreciative but he's not sure how many more he can handle. It's already hotter in here than when he first walked in and he's not sure all the dancers warming the floor are the ones to blame.

"Sounds good," Keith nods.

Mateo leads him to the pool table and tells Keith's the logistics of it. A game he says is called one-pocket, where all the balls are shot into a chosen pocket on the table. Seems easy enough to Keith and they get started. Halfway through the game, Keith flicks his eye up to look at the dance floor.

The song has changed to a much slower one. There are fewer people on the floor but Lance is among them. There's a guy in his gentle hold as they sway close to one another. It's a dance he's never seen Lance do before and he can't turn his eyes away. It’s...entrancing to see.

Seductive. Slow and purposeful. Lots of hip movement and hands touching on the other. A bit like undulating waves as they roll their hips. Like a swaying cobra. Lance's body is so close to his partner's that he can steal his breath with a tilt of his chin.

It's easily the most intimate dance Keith's ever seen and it makes his mouth go dry at the sight.

"Bachata," Mateo says, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh?" Keith blinks, coming back to himself.

"Looked curious," Mateo nods in Lance's direction.

"Is that what it's called? Bachata?" Keith asks and Mateo nods, lining up his shot.

"Sensual Bachata," he amends and cracks the ball, pocketing it. "His favorite."

Lance’s favorite dance. Why did it take him this long to conclude that Lance would have a favorite? Keith lines up a shot but looks up at the last moment to eye a smiling Lance. When he strikes, the ball misses its target. Mateo's turn again.

While he goes, Keith watches more intently at the steps their feet take and then his dance partner. The partner is as tall as Lance, a dark tan and black hair pulled into a loose bun. Broad in the shoulders, with a tattoo peeking above his collar. Looks like a dragon of some kind but Keith keeps coming back to his hair. Black and long...like Keith’s.

Was it on purpose? Did Lance choose someone to remind him of Lion? So he could dance this incredibly intimate dance with him? Lance leans in to whisper to the guy and Keith's face flushes red.

Would he...do that to him at the masquerade? If they danced? Voice in his ear, breathy but smooth. A praising purr that just imagining sends sparks down his entire body. Keith covers his mouth and consequently his hot cheeks as he swallows.

"I uh...need to sit down," he says handing the pool cue to Mateo and finding a chair to drop in.

"Too much for you?" he asks as he puts up the cues.

"I...yeah," Keith nods.

Yes, he can pretend it's the _alcohol_ that's making him lightheaded and warm.

"Not everyone can handle it," Mateo chuckles as he takes a seat next to him and pats his back.

"Yeah, that Tequila is--"

"Oh, I am not talking about the Tequila amigo," he interrupts with a knowing grin and Keith goes rigid. “Lancito is handsome no?”

Mateo knows...

Of course, he does! Spending the whole evening looking over at Lance. He’d be drooling if his mouth hadn’t been clamped shut. Someone was bound to notice! It’s a miracle it hasn’t happened sooner!

Though he has to admit, Keith’s glad it was Mateo as opposed to the others. He comes across as far more mature and discreet than the muggles. The others would have run over to tell Lance immediately he's sure. And it would ruin the big romantic reveal he's planning.

Mateo gives his shoulder a pat. "Go dance with him. He will not say no to dancing with such good looking guy."

"I can't--I've never--I don't want to mess it up," he manages to get out and ducks his head under his hands.

Mateo pauses, sympathetic look on his face. He's not so naive to think this is about messing up a dance but doesn't call him out on it. He just puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder and gives him half a smile.

"Everyone messes up sometime," Mateo reassures him.

"This is...different...I..." Keith stumbles on his words. He pauses and looks across the club to see Lance is finished dancing.

Now he's talking very quickly and animatedly with a group of people at the bar, including the guy he was just dancing with. Smile on his face and drink in hand. A girl spots him from down the way runs up and embraces him then adds a kiss on the cheek for good measure. She hangs her arm on him as he continues his story, making them all laugh.

Lance is so lively in the ways that Keith isn't. They'd never mesh he tells himself. Never flow together. Not in the ways he wants them too. With his luck, he'd step all over Lance's toes and embarrass not only himself but Lance too and in front of his friends.

Keith looks away just as some shots are delivered to them. He takes one and downs it before speaking.

"I don't want him to see me screw up," Keith says, denying that this is about anything other than looking foolish. "We're rivals. I'd never hear the end of it."

Mateo huffs out a little chuckle. "Right. If you want maybe I teach you some? A step or two so Lancito not laugh at you?"

Keith considers it. He's drunk enough to give it a try but definitely not drunk enough to try with Lance. Or anywhere Lance might witness him fumbling around. He'd definitely astral project right out of his body and die of shame if Lance started laughing at him as he made a fool out of himself.

Could be nice to know for later though. Maybe for the RoR party after the break? To surprise him with? Keith licks his lips nervously and looks to the side.

"Is there...somewhere he won't see me?" Keith asks.

Mateo chuckles again but nods. Yes, there is a teaching room they use for classes during the day. It's next to the stage. He helps Keith up from the chair and gestures him to follow as they walk to the mentioned room.

The room is big and open with several chairs and small tables, moved in there for the night. A quieter space for people looking to get away from the noise for a bit. Keith puts down his full margarita on a table to free his hands up and looks around.

They can still hear the music but it's less crowded than the rest of the club. Looks like there are two other couples teaching each other how to dance in here. They aren't alone but it's as private as it's going to get.

" _Here's a good spot. No one from the dance floor can see you here_ ," Mateo says. "Ah...sorry. This place look good for you?"

" _You can just...talk in Spanish_ ," Keith says. " _I'm fairly fluent._ "

" _That so? Poor Luca, haha. Well, Spanish would be a little easier on me,_ " Mateo nods. " _Come, I'll show you the hold and the steps."_

At first it's a little awkward. Keith can't remember the last time he put his hands on anyone he didn’t know well without trying to knock out their teeth. Mateo adjusts his hold on Keith and makes sure he's not invading his space too much. Then they get started.

Keith messes up. Like a lot. And it’s frustrating like he wouldn’t believe. He comes close to just calling it quits but Mateo pulls him back with words of encouragement. Telling him not to give up yet, that it takes time.

His teacher is very patient so every instance in which his timing is off or he steps on feet they just begin again. Just readjusts Keith's hands and begins back at the start, showing him how to keep time and encouraging him to _stop. looking. down_. Just feel the rhythm. He’ll get there.

It takes about fifteen minutes of fumbling before Keith gets it down a little better. At least he's stopped crushing Mateo's feet. Mateo tells him he's doing great for a beginner, that he just needs to practice more. The compliment does make Keith feel a little less like a fool. He even manages to relax his face into a small smile as they go.

That’s when the ring on Mateo's finger catches Keith's eye again.

" _Where's your spouse_?" Keith asks.

" _My...?_ " Mateo furrows his brow but then remembers the ring. " _Oh that's not--It's to keep people from flirting with me at the pizzeria._ "

"Ah," Keith nods as they step and sway a little. “ _Good idea._ ”

" _Lancito's idea actually. He knows I have no interest in--well, that's personal,_ " Mateo chuckles and turns him out before pulling him back in. " _Suffice to say,_ **_no one_ ** _has to worry about me trying to take them home. Not my thing. My parents are_ **_very_ ** _disappointed I'm not more like Lancito._ "

Keith snorts at that. One Lance is enough, Keith says. The world doesn't need any more incorrigible flirts in the world. Mateo agrees with a laugh.

" _You know, if you want to learn Sensual Bachata, the way Lancito does it, you have to slow down,_ " he says.

" _When did I say I wanted to do that?_ " Keith huffs with a pouting frown.

" _Never..._ " Mateo says but then adds, " _...but you did slow down, just now_."

Keith flushes red with a frown and looks down at his feet to avoid Mateo's smirk. Mateos asks him again. Does Keith want to learn the Sensual Bachata? He can teach him a little if he likes? Keith doesn't say yes or no but he does just barely nod. With a smile, Mateo stops their steps for a moment to readjust for it.

" _You'll have to move in closer, like this,_ " he says as he moves a leg between Keith's.

This puts one of Keith's knees between Mateo's as well and brings them in way closer than before. This is how close he would be with Lance if they danced Bachata. Just imagining doing such a thing has his cheeks filling with warmth. He swallows down his nerves with a frown and allows Mateo to continue his adjustments.

" _And your hips...need to relax so they can roll more_ ," Mateo informs him. He puts his hands on Keith's hip to help guide him as they start the steps again. " _Yes, like this. Slowly. Very good._ "

Keith takes shallow breaths to keep calm and go with the flow. Keeping the slow pace like Mateo recommends is making it easier to keep the time. He hasn't messed up a single step yet but he's afraid that won't last long. Not with thoughts of Lance standing in Mateo's place.

Lance's hands at his back and sliding up his thigh to perch on his waist. To guide him more easily. Turning him out and dipping before pulling him back into his hold for more rolling hips. Keith can just imagine his fingers cupped behind his neck and pressing at the nape to bring their faces closer. And Lance...Lance leaning in, his lips brushing his ear as he whispers something flirty to him.

Keith swallows back a sigh before clearing his throat.

" _Does he...Does Lance do this dance--Bachata--with everyone?_ " Keith asks casually, a poor attempt at hiding his curiosity.

" _Only when he's feeling--ah. I shouldn't say,_ " Mateo stops himself. " _Don't need you thinking badly of Lancito_."

Mateo may not have said it but he doesn't need to. The implication hangs heavy in the air as they step. Lance only dances Bachata when he's horny. Or lonely. Or both. Is that why Lance chose someone with dark hair like Lion? It's the only way he can satisfy that desire to be physically close to someone he's never met. To pretend.

That could have been you, you coward, Keith berates himself.

" _Lancito usually leads for most dances_ ," Mateo informs him. " _But I'll give you a trick to help stand out. Do you want to surprise Lancito?_ "

"No," Keith huffs, still playing the denial card. " _I like standing out though so...show me._ "

Mateo laughs a little at his attempt to hide his feelings before he adjusts their stance. Changes their hand positions and Keith stalls for a moment, that is until Mateo encourages him to keep going, this time with Keith leading. Feels a little strange but he takes to it well. At least that's what Mateo says as they continue the dance.

Keith feels he likes this a little better actually. Being able to decide where and how fast they go is far more in line with his personality. He even gives Mateo a turn out before pulling him back in.

" _Very good! You take charge very well_ ," he encourages as he allows Keith to continue to lead him.

" _So how's this supposed to make me stand out_?" Keith asks, still waiting for this amazing trick to be revealed to him.

" _Haha_ , _surprise Lancito by making him follow_ ," Mateo says.

Make Lance follow? Instead of lead? He's never seen Lance let someone else lead before.

Wait, no, that's not right.

Once, he let Inez lead him in a dance. When they first started dating. He was putty in her hand the whole night, didn't even care that she wouldn't let him dance with anyone else. But he's _never_ seen Lance let another guy take lead.

" _He'd like that?_ " Keith asks, eyes narrowed in disbelief.

" _I have seen him like it,_ " Mateo laughs and lowers his voice. " _A little too much, I think._ "

Still hard for Keith to believe but then he's only known Lance a couple of months. Mateo has been his friend since childhood. Perhaps there are certain things you only share with that level of friend and Keith hasn't reached that hallmark yet.

So for now, he'll just have to take Mateo's word for it.

" _Give it a try, when you are feeling_ _bold_ ," Mateo winks at him. " _Lancito will respond_ _favorably_ _, I guarantee it_."

" _Why...would I care about that?_ " Keith huffs, his face warm at the thought of what 'favorably' might entail. Lance gyrating his hips in tandem with Keith's on the dance floor while everyone at Hogwarts watches comes to mind and it makes him a lightheaded again. "I...uh... _I feel a little nauseous._ "

" _You have drunk enough Tequila to drown a sailor_ ," he smiles and guides him over to his chair. Speaking of drinks, while they've been dancing an additional two shots and a whole margarita have been added to his table that he does not intend to drink. " _Stay here for a minute, head between your knees just in case._ "

Keith nods in agreement and takes deep calming breaths to will away those amorous thoughts before he makes himself ill.

*****

Another song ended and another dance completed. And with that finished dance, another shot passes into his hand. Lance has lost count of how many he's had so far but it pales in comparison to the number he's seen people sending Keith's way all night. The guy isn't even dancing and everyone is falling all over themselves to get him drinks.

Lucky little shit.

He downs the shot and returns the glass to the bar. Regardless, it's been a good night as far as dancing goes but he keeps checking his watch. This will be the sixth time in the past hour.

"God, stop doing that," Lance scolds himself. He already told Lion that they probably wouldn't talk tonight. He just needs to distract himself some more. "Ezor can I get another--"

A hand taps his shoulder, interrupting his request. It's Mateo. Last he saw him they were playing pool in the corner. When he looks over there now though, there's no one. Where did Keith--?

" _Your friend isn't feeling well_ ," he tells him, making his brows furrow.

“ _Where--?_ ”

" _He's in the practice hall._ "

" _Alright, I'll check on him_ ," Lance nods and turns back to the bar. "Ezor, a water bottle?"

The bartender throws Lance one and he catches it with ease. Nothing could dull those excellent Chaser skills of his. He may have had more than enough to drink that night but he's used to Tequila shots and Margaritas. He could probably have half a dozen more and still be able to stumble his way back to the house without breaking anything.

But Keith...

When Lance sees Keith in the room, hunched over and rubbing sweat off his face, he starts to feel bad. Guilt rising in his gut for abandoning him to have fun. He figured Keith was having a good time; if he wasn’t he’d have said something, surely. Now Lance is wondering if maybe he should have stuck a little closer. Monitored how much he was having. Played some pool with him.

Keith’s face is red and he’s taking deep breaths--the guy looks ready to pass out right there. That or he’s going to be sick. How much did he drink?

Lance takes a seat next to Keith and puts a hand on his back to stabilize him. Keith barely acknowledges the gesture, just continues to breathe. He’s very warm, sweating through the shirt.

"You okay, man?" he asks and Keith nods weakly. "Here," he says handing him the water bottle. "Drink up. You're probably dehydrated."

"When...can we head back?" Keith asks after draining half the bottle. "I think I...I want to turn in."

"Keep drinking, but slowly," Lance tells him. He reaches over to tilt the bottle back up to Keith's mouth. "It's only 11 but we can go now if you want."

"Yeah," Keith nods, the sweat abating but the flush on his cheeks remains. "I don't feel great."

"Let me just down the rest of your drinks and we can go," Lance promises. "Don’t want to waste them. Sound good?"

He nods and continues to drink his water. Lance in the meantime takes the margarita and slurps it down. Then takes a shot in each hand and knocks them back like they're nothing.

Keith can't believe how easy it is for him. Barely looks phased at all and he had to of drank more than Keith throughout the night. And he's been dancing too! How is he not as dead as Keith is? Maybe locals just handle the booze better than tourists?

"There," Lance gulps and shakes his head with puffed flushed cheeks. "Phew, alright. Let's get back. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so," Keith nods as he takes Lance's hand to help him up.

He expects Lance to let go immediately but he doesn't. Just tugs him by the hand through the throng of people so he doesn't get lost. It's nice. Better than nice. Keith considers giving his hand a little squeeze but thinks better of it. Probably wouldn't feel it anyway with how they're getting jostled around in the crowd.

" _We're gonna head back_ ," Lance says to the group when he finds them.

" _I figured your friend wouldn't make it through the night. He looks like such a lightweight_ ," Juan snickers and just catches the end of Keith's unamused glare in response to his rude comment.

The guy gives Keith a puzzled look before blinking with the realization that Keith understood him. He stares slack-jawed as he points but by now Keith's ignoring him and no one’s paying attention to his sputtering.

" _No, I just remembered some stuff I need to get done tomorrow_ ," Lance lies to defend Keith. " _See you guys around._ "

" _See you, Lancito_ ," Mateo smiles. "Take care, Keith."

Keith just nods his goodbye while Juan still stands there staring at Keith with disbelief as they exit.

Once out on the street, the temperature is significantly cooler and Lance takes a deep breath of fresh air. Keith does too. It's nice to breathe in something that doesn't smell like dozens of perfumed sweating bodies and alcohol. Lance lets go of his hand only to hook an arm around his neck.

"So whatcha think of your first Cuban dance night?" Lance asks, hopeful.

"The music was great. Pool too," Keith answers, not really looking at him. "Sorry."

"Sorry? What for?"

"We left early because of me," Keith mumbles with a frown. He stumbles a little and Lance supports his weight until he gets his balance again. "I had way too much. I should have--"

"It's fine," Lance assures him. "My fault really. Should have been looking out for you," he says scratching the back of his head with a tinge of guilt. "And I've had more than enough too, it just hasn't caught up yet. Any later and we'd be crawling home. This way at least I can sing and still understand what I'm saying so cheer up. I need backup vocals and you’re my only hope."

That makes Keith feel loads better about tapping out. So cheer up he does.

They make it back to the house, the both of them singing the Hogwarts anthem for the third time and snorting with laughter as they get the words wrong. Again. This little walk home is ten times as fun as the club was, in Keith’s opinion. They lean on each other the whole way and Keith can't say he's bothered by it at all. In fact, he enjoys it immensely knowing that Lance will attribute his blushing to alcohol.

The twins hear the knock at the door and let them in with smirks. There's clearly no pity in their eyes for their brother or his friend as they stumble in with intoxication still evident on their cheeks. They don't even stick around to help them up the stoop, just leave the door to them and go back to their room. Which leaves them to get to their rooms by their lonesome.

Lance is suddenly struck with disorientation on his way up the stairs, Keith's last drinks finally hitting him in time to make him trip. He almost brings Keith down with him but Keith has the mind to grab the railing to keep them from tumbling down. The both of them snort at that and working together they finally clamber their way to the second floor a minute later.

“We made it!” Lance cheers, leaning on Keith with a triumphant grin. “We make a great team.”

“Yeah,” Keith nods back with half a smile.

"Alright. Time for bed. Night Keith," Lance snickers and ruffles his head of gelled hair. "Glad you had fun. Drink that thing V gave you. So you're not dead tomorrow."

"I will," Keith promises, waving him off. "You too."

"Yeah yeah," Lance nods and sways down the hall. "See you in the morning."

He watches Lance go with a smile on his face until he disappears into Veronica's room, closing the door behind him. Keith retires to his own room, closes his own door and immediately collapses on the bed, rolling onto his back a minute later.

He tugs the vial from his pocket and quaffs it down in two gulps. Tastes like pumpkin pie with a sprinkling of cinnamon. Better than most potions he's had. Lance's sister must be pretty good at her job if she can make them bearable to drink. Hell, even feels like the effects are underway.

So much fun tonight even if he didn't spend much of it next to Lance. His friends were nice and as flirty as Luca was he didn’t push his luck. And Mateo, he hung out with him all night even though he could have been cutting it up on the dancefloor with Lance. It was nice to just have a good time.

Only thing is...hanging all over Lance on the way back has put him in a mood much like the night before though. So warm. And his cheek hit Keith’s neck several times. He knows getting off in Lance's bed again would be in poor taste but it doesn't stop him from palming himself a little.

Damn, he can still smell that cologne on his neck, as if Lance were right next to him. If he'd been bold like Mateo suggested and asked...would Lance have slept in there with him? Or would he have laughed, thinking Keith was joking or too drunk to know what he was saying? Maybe a little of both.

He leans over the bed to rummage through his bag, snatching up his book. Maybe he can look at a few drawings, the more evocative ones and convince himself that Lance is sharing the bed with him. He gets through all the pages, skimming and scanning until he unexpectedly reaches the end.

Is that it? Damn, he needs to draw more pictures of--he pauses when letters start showing up on the last page.

**It’s late. You're probably not there--**

Keith snatches up a pen from the floor and rolls to splay the book out under him.

 **\--which is probably good cause I just wanna say--  
** _I'm here._

Keith hears Lance through the wall. Something like 'shit' before the words start up again.

 **I didn't think you'd be awake** .  
_What were you going to say?_  
**Nothing. It's not important. I'm wasted. Ignore me.  
** _You're drunk messaging me?_  
**I was going to drunk confess more things and just scratch them out when I sobered up but now that I know you're awake I'm feeling a little self-conscious about being a sap. What about you? Why are you up?**

Keith nibbles his bottom lip in thought. Honesty is the best policy, that’s what Shiro always says.

 _It's really not appropriate.  
_ **Have you met me? Can't be worse than what I was about to say.**

This is his chance to be more bold, more forward. Lance likes that in a partner, isn't that what Mateo said? Keith’s not sure. When they talked he was a little out of it. Too busy being sloshed and thinking about Lance’s body close to his.

What’s there to lose in trying?

_I was thinking about you...and being in your bed._

Keith hears something akin to Lance yelping, falling out of a bed and slamming into the floor. Some mild cursing. Then scrambling to get back up. Now he's pacing a little while mumbling to himself. Sounds like 'calm down' and 'be smooth' over and over. Finally there's a creak, like he's returned to the bed to sit.

Then words start coming in again.

**Oh yeah? What would you be doing if you were there? I'd love to know ;)**

Keith snorts back a laugh, muffling it in the pillow. And a second ago he was freaking out in the other room. Probably still is but he’s trying to play it cool.

This isn’t a bad idea, is it? After all, Lance wants them to be closer. Wants to date. And maybe more. This is just an inevitable development in their relationship...even if it normally happens _after_ people meet.

Hell, why the fuck not?

Keith takes the book with him as he moves down the bed to lean his back against the shared wall. That way he can hear Lance better. But that means he needs to be extra quiet so Lance doesn't hear him back.

_If you really want to know...I was thinking about your lips. Kissing you with your hands on me._

"Fuck," Lance utters in the other room.

 **Now you've got me thinking about it. I wish you** **_were_ ** **in my bed.  
** _What would you do if I was?_

There's a pause as Keith listens to the other room.

Lance is trying to clear his head of the Tequila induced haze it's under. Just reading those words sobered him up a bit but now he's wishing he hadn't drank so much so he could gather his thoughts better. Why isn’t V’s potion working faster?

He didn't know Lion thought about those things. Or well, he guessed Lion did with the way he draws Lance--but he never said anything. Plays it close to the chest. But now Lion’s being so open. It's Lance’s chance to be just as honest about how he feels. And the things he wants to do.

He picks up the pen and shakes his head. Don't think too much, he tells himself. Just write.

 **I'd kiss you first. I'd want that to be the first thing I did to you.  
** **I want it to be so good and deep that I get to hear you gasp my name instead of having to read it on paper.**

Lance feels his erection tenting his boxers. Man, and he told himself he wouldn’t jack off in his sister’s room but...he quickly stands to lock the door. Not that he thinks anyone will interrupt him. No one downstairs can hear him. Maybe Keith could, but he's probably asleep by now with how drunk he was.

He slumps back onto the bed and draws himself out of the confines of his boxers to stroke. Fingers wrapping around tight and pulling in languid strokes. Thank god he’s ambidextrous; he can write and pump his cock at the same time.

 **I think about it all the time. Rubbing my hands down your body, tasting your skin. Finally hearing your voice as I touch you.  
** _Lance, don't stop._  
**Are you touching yourself?  
**_Yes._

Keith hears Lance mumble another 'fuck' through the wall followed by more writing.

 **Me too.  
** _I want your mouth on my cock, Lance.  
_ _I think about it all the time. Last night I got off thinking about it._

Another exclamation from Lance but this time it's a gasp. An 'oh my god' and a panting moan.

 _Would you like that? To suck my cock?  
_ **Like it? God, I'd fucking** **love** **that. Wish I'd grabbed my toys from my room, then I could at least fake it. How would you make me take it, Lion? Tell me.**

How? He remembers what Mateo said. Lance likes someone who takes charge. Someone who tells Lance what to do. Probably because he does it all the time, it’s refreshing and exhilarating to have the tables turned. The hunter becoming the hunted.

Keith licks his lips and then the palm of his hand before returning it to his twitching cock. Bites back a sigh as he continues to write for Lance.

 _I would push you to your knees. Grab a handful of your hair. And rock into your perfect mouth._  
**God...I'm gonna lose it. I wish I could hear your voice right now. Wish I could touch you…  
** **I want to see you. Taste you. All of you.**

Keith can't stop himself. He can literally hear Lance panting on the other side and it’s intoxicating to know he’s the cause of it. Keith drops the pen as he clenches his jaw tight. He covers his mouth and hisses out a silent moan. His cock erupts, a steady stream dripping out hot and thick down his length and over his knuckles as he shudders.

 _I couldn't hold it in._  
**You came?  
** _All over myself. What a mess._  
**God that's hot. Wish I was there. Wish I could see it.  
**_If you were I'd make you clean it up. Your fault after all._

"F-Fuck, Lion," Lance gasps in the other room.

 **More** . **Please more.  
** _I'd pull you over my body and shove you down. Pin you by the neck and force you to lick it up. Like a good boy._

Keith hears Lance moan again but this one is different from the others. Muffled by a pillow or, more likely, his fist but it sounds just like the one he heard in Transfigurations. Ragged and weak, his body shuddering as the orgasm overcomes him and the sound brings heat to Keith's face.

He did that. He did that to Lance. Made him come with nothing more than a few words on parchment. Words emboldened by drink but _his_ words nonetheless. Once Lance composes himself he begins writing again, his hand a little shaky.

 **I hope I didn't wake Keith. That'd be embarrassing.  
** **God, I haven't gotten off like that in weeks.  
** _When's the last time you got off?  
_ **Like yesterday in the shower but this was...way better. This was amazing**.

Again with the 'amazings'. Keith rolls his eyes and mops up his mess with one of his dirty shirts.

 **Can...we talk more like this? I mean, when I’m not drunk? I mean, only if you want to--  
** _Yeah. I’d like that too._  
**Why did--  
** _Someone told me to be bolder with you. Did you like it?_  
**I fucking loved it. That's two I owe Keith now.  
** _How’s that?_  
**If he hadn't started feeling sick we wouldn't have come home early and I'd have missed out on some of the best wizard sexting I've ever had.  
** _You don’t have to over exaggerate._  
**I’m not. Hmm...I should get him a Christmas present tomorrow as a thank you. Can’t let him know why though. He’d probably deck me if I started describing my lurid activities.**

Nearly midnight and Lance is asking him about what to get Keith for Christmas. The irony. They should be sleeping but neither of them seems ready to drop their pens yet. Not that any of them is complaining. Probably thanks to that second wind from their little bout of fun.

Lance throws out a few ideas he has but Keith shoots them down with reasons why they wouldn't work. Gets to the point where Lance is pacing again in the other room but then hums an 'aha!' and Keith waits with anticipation for the epiphany to appear on paper. When Lance gets excited his handwriting always reverts to those terrible scribbles. Funny how he can tell a mood just from the way he writes.

**He's the Seeker for the team and it's been getting colder. Maybe a new pair of gloves? He’s been using the school pair but they’re a little old.**

Thoughtful and practical. Keith finds himself smiling with approval and more than a little impressed that Lance noticed.

 _They'd have to be fingerless. Skin has to touch the snitch in case of debated capture._  
**True. Might have to make a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Don't have time to make a pair myself.  
** _You sew?_  
**A little. Enough to make a few things. My friends called me 'The Tailor' in secondary school.  
** _The Tailor?_  
**I fixed a lot of popped buttons and torn jeans. And a couple of skirts. ;)  
** _All your own doing, I bet._  
**Maybe. ;) God, it's going to be packed tomorrow. Christmas Eve. What should I get you?**

Keith furrows a brow in confusion. Didn't they just get finished talking about what to get him? But then belatedly he remembers to separate his secret identity from himself.  Lance wants to know what to get _Lion_ for Christmas. Two gifts from Lance? One is more than enough.

 **I'll get you something while I'm there. I can leave it in my desk for you when I get back.  
** **Do you like candy? Or chocolate?  
** _Dark chocolate yeah, but really I'm good. That pen set you gave me is more than enough to last through the holidays._  
**You sure?  
** _Just tell me Merry Christmas and it'll be enough. :)_  
**If you say so. Ah! You used an emoji! I’m so proud. :’)  
** _Is there anything you want for Christmas?_  
**Uh...is it too much to ask for a poem?  
** _I can do that._  
**Awesome. :) I'm going to turn in.  
** _Same._  
**Night Lion. Sweet dreams. <3  
**_Sweet dreams Lance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Give it a kudos! Really like it? Leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
> Don't know what to say? Tell me your favorite part. Or your favorite line. Leave nothing but hearts. Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that stuff and I'm no exception!
> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	16. The Six of Pentacles (Upright)

_“[This] is a card representing being in harmony with your money... you are thankful for what you have without being grasping of it, and happy to share with others in need...The generosity of [this] does not limit itself to money and material things. Giving of your time or your wisdom is often just as spiritually fulfilling as giving away money or gifts, and the intangible gift of your presence is received just as well, if not better.”    ---Biddy Tarot_

 

"Keith?" calls a voice from the other side of the door. "There's a letter for you."

He's pulling on a shirt when he quirks a brow in confusion. A letter? For him? Who would send one here? Shiro?

He tugs a brush real quick through his hair before opening the door to Lance's smiling father. He extends the letter to Keith who takes it with thanks. It's got the Kogane family seal on it. Keith tears it open to a short note with his mother’s tidy handwriting.

_Keith,_

_Shiro tells me you're staying with friends for the holidays. Sending you a package. Should be there shortly after you get this. Enough to compensate your friend's family for any expenses with enough left over for you to get a few things for yourself. Merry Christmas._

_Love, Mom_

"From my mom," he sighs and folds it back up. "Is there a box too?"

"Not yet," he says and checks his watch. "But it's early. Pan does letters from the local office first. Then drops off any packages around nine."

"Is Lance up yet?" Keith wonders, eyeing the hall. Veronica's door is open.

"Yes," he chuckles. "The twins are experimenting on him."

When the two of them make it to the bottom landing Keith has to suppress a snort at the sight. All over Lance's perfect caramel skin are dark blue blotches, like he'd been hit with ink filled water balloons. And right over his eye is a big enough mark to suggest a black eye if one didn't know any better.

The twins are grabbing at his arms and pointing their wands at his different marks, trying different spells to return his color to normal. Doesn’t work because it’s not actual ink, one says. It’s more like a rash. Should they try spells related to illnesses?

Lance looks positively peeved about the whole thing and his glare only deepens when Keith comes around the corner without a single skin cell out of place.

"V would give you the perfected potion," Lance huffs as Marco tries another spell but it rebounds and changes the caster’s eye color to green. "Bet yours even tasted good."

"It did," Keith admits, taking a seat in a chair next to him to look at the marks. He smirks at Lance. "Like pumpkin pie."

"Man, fuck the both of you," Lance grumbles.

"Lance," Mr. McClain says in a warning tone. "Don't let your mother hear you talk like that."

"Sorry," Lance sighs. "I just...don't want to look like _this--_ ” he gestures to himself  “--when I go shopping."

"Why not?" Veronica asks, carrying a glass of orange juice out of the kitchen. "Afraid someone _special_ might see you looking like you had a tryst with a Kraken and it inked you at it’s climax?"

"Gross," Lance gags. "But yeah, it'd be great if _no one thought that_. Thanks."

"Can't you just use _Colovaria_?" Keith asks and the room goes quiet, turning to stare at him. "It's...the same spell you used on my jeans?"

"I know what _Colovaria_ is, Keith," Lance huffs, almost insulted. "I've just...never used it on anything alive before. I don't know if it's different, or what it'll do if it is."

"Can't be worse than this, can it?" Keith raises a brow and pulls his wand. "I can do it if you're too chicken."

"UH NO THANKS," Lance exclaims, putting his hands out like a barrier. "And I'm not a chicken! It's just...no offense Keith, but you're not the best at Charms."

Keith frowns and eyes the twins. They give him a look, as if prepared for collusion at the word. It gives him an idea and Keith levels a smirk.

"Hold him," he says and the two jump on him, grabbing his arms and pulling him to the couch.

"No! Don't!" Lance says, panicking. "You can't just--if you don't visualize right--TURN ME ORANGE AND I SWEAR I'LL--!!"

"Shut up, Lance," Keith huffs as he readies the wand. "I can do this."

His whole body freezes as Keith points directly at the large blotch on his face. Lance tenses and squeezes his eyes shut, not willing to look at the casting or the aftermath. Afterall, he's seen Keith blow away entire practice dummies with that wand. One false move and--

Keith encants and a red light flashes from the tip of his wand. Once the light abates, everyone leans in to look. Lance still has his face scrunched up, afraid of opening his eyes.

"How does it look? How bad did he butcher my face?" Lance asks, nervously.

"The color isn't right," one of the twins says and Lance groans.

"But it's pretty close," Veronica says. "Hardly noticeable unless you're inches away."

"Really?" Lance blinks sitting up and Marco provides a mirror. He tilts his face to check the difference between his forehead and jaw. "Huh...look at that. You're right, it's close."

"I told you I could do it," Keith huffs and crosses his arms. After all, _Colovaria_ is easy. And he's spent the better part of some of his classes studying the shape and color of Lance's face. Of course he visualized it pretty well.

"Can you blame me though? I've seen your Charms tests and they aren't pretty," Lance snorts.

"Don't be rude Lance," Veronica says, smacking his shoulder and then gesturing to Keith. "You're lucky he helped you at all. If I were you Keith, I'd change it back. Ungrateful little shi--"

"Veronica," Mr. McClain warns again. The kids only get like this when Mama McClain isn't around with a sandal ready to fly.

"Try it again," says a twin. "I think it's only off because the lighting in here is bad."

Veronica pulls her wand, casting _lumos_ and holding it above them. The twins don't have to hold Lance down this time and he isn't scrunching up his face in terror. But he still bites his lip nervously and closes his eyes to which Keith is eternally grateful. Those blues staring back at him would definitely throw off his spellwork.

He does it again and this time it comes out correct. Lance's face is back to its usual tone and everyone claps with approval. Compliments of a job well done as Lance looks over his face again. He’s mildly impressed and that certainly makes Keith feel pretty good about himself.

"Nice, how about the rest--"

"Don't bother," Veronica tells Keith. "He can wear long sleeves to Diagon Alley. Let the rest wear off on it's own. Payback for not trusting you."

"Aww, come on," Lance whines and provides Keith with a less than confident smile. "I totally trust you, Keith."

"Yeah, he trusts you _now_ . He's so loyal _now_ ," Veronica snorts with a roll of her eyes, making Keith chuckle.

"Breakfast, Keith?" Mr. McClain asks from the kitchen. "Sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast ready if you want it."

That's a much more tempting offer than casting _Colovaria_ a dozen more times. All the others have eaten with the exception of Lance. So the two boys get their food from Mr. McClain and take it onto the patio out back to eat.

Another delicious meal. Everyone in this family can cook it seems. Perfect home cooked spaghetti. Flavorful scrambled eggs and toast. And now savory bacon and sausage. At this rate, Keith's going to gain a couple pounds being there because he can't stop eating.

Lance powers through his food quickly and takes off with his dirty dishes. Says he needs to put together a list and change for London weather. He’s heading to Diagon Alley for some quick shopping. Keith can come too if he wants, he says, but only if he’s ready when Lance is. He doesn’t want to wait around all day.

Lance always takes forever to get ready so Keith remains at the table, taking his time to enjoy the meal that Lance so casually shovelled away. While doing so Mr. McClain comes out with a cup of strong coffee and takes a seat across from Keith. He reads through the local muggle paper with a smile.

"Are you having a good time, Keith?" he asks and sips his drink.

"Yeah," Keith nods and offers up a small smile. "It's a lot better than sitting around Hogwarts by myself. Thanks. For having me, I mean."

"It's our pleasure," he nods. “Anything for friends and family.”

A shadow swoops over above and without looking Mr. McClain moves Keith's plate up just in time to avoid a crash landing on the table. A package the size of the owl itself lands in a flurry of feathers and screeching. The older man just sighs, as if this is commonplace before putting the plate back down and freeing the angry owl from the package tether.

"Well, stop moving Pan," he huffs and she nips his knuckles. "Hey! Stop that too. There. You're free, you buzzard. Get."

Pan hops off the table to his perch to sit and seethe. Never has Keith met an owl so opposed to doing it's job before. Meaner than Sumi and he didn't think that was possible. He glares at Keith as if he's the cause of all his misfortunes so the Gryffindor turns his attention back to his food and the package.

It must be the money his mom mentioned. He opens it up to find two seperate satchels of wizard currency, both labeled with notes of their own. Keith's mom has always been an organized person, which is probably where he gets it from. He takes the one with 'McClain family' written on it and palms it. Feel like about a hundred galleons, maybe a little more.

"Here, Mr. McClain," Keith says, passing it over to a puzzled older man. "To pay for any expenses while I'm here."

"Oh...no, Keith. We couldn't accept this. It's--Mama would beat me if we took this," he declines and puts it back into Keith's hands.

"But--"

"You're _family_ for the holidays. Not an expense that needs compensating," he says. “You don’t take money from family.”

Keith looks positively conflicted as he takes in the two bags of galleons.

The hell? What is he supposed to do with all this cash? He couldn't possibly spend it all. There's nothing he truly wants or needs. But the McClains...there's so much they could use it for. He wishes they'd just take it so he wouldn't have to bother with it.

With a smile, Mr. McClain pats his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find something nice to spend it on," he says.

Keith tries to smile as he puts the bags back into the box. Lance's father tells him not to bother with his plate, he'll take it in when he's done with his coffee. Keith nods and takes his box up the stairs to the room.

Lance is at the end of the hall with the bathroom door open as he does his morning skin care routine, in warm clothes for the trip. He’d be sweating up a storm if he wasn’t casting a steady stream of cold air out of his wand as he worked, slowly spreading and cooling the house down too. Considering this is the third time he’s seen Lance cast _Glacius_ since they arrived, it’s little wonder he’s so good at it. He’d better get dressed for London too. Keith closes the bedroom door behind him to ready himself for the mayhem that is Diagon Alley at Christmas Eve.

*****

The walk to Diagon Alley is cold and wet. Keith had the forethought to grab an umbrella while Lance wears a hooded jacket to protect himself. It's pouring but that hardly matters. They know the weather will improve once they get to the shops and stores in the alley.

A lot of shopkeep wizards go out of their way to make Diagon Alley pleasant weatherwise during the holidays since no one likes to spend money when it's raining buckets outside. If they can't cast a protective shield over their own shop, they'll pay someone to do it. Makes for a good shopping experience which means more money spent in their stores.

Lance taps the secret entrance with his wand. Each brick in its proper order to reveal the way. The stones and bricks turn and slide out of the way to reveal the street with its massive crowds running to and fro.

The minute they're through the hidden brick entrance Keith closes the umbrella and shakes it off. Lance throws back his hood, breathing in deep the smell of the bakery already cooking up dozens of orders of pastries. Even though he just had breakfast, he licks his lips at the thought of a cherry danish.

"Alright," Lance starts and turns to Keith who's already shrinking his umbrella to put in his satchel. "It's gonna be crowded once we reach the main street. Might lose each other."

A good thing. Lance doesn't want Keith seeing what he's getting for Christmas. Christmas is no fun if your presents aren’t a surprise. And Lance doesn’t think he’s ever seen Keith look surprised before. 

"So if we do get split up, meet in front of Ollivander's around...noon, sound good?" Lance asks.

"Yeah," Keith agrees.

"We'll get lunch and then head back," Lance adds and check his watch. "Gives us three hours to shop. Try not to get trampled."

Within moments of entering the main street they're swarmed with bustling and rushing people. Last minute shoppers left and right, pushing and shoving and yelling to get to stores with their arms full of parcels and colorfully wrapped boxes. Everything smells of cinnamon, pine, and various fruits.

Lance loses Keith almost immediately. He's short enough that the crowd drowns out his presence. Tells himself not to worry about it too much. It's not like at the club where he was wasted and surrounded by strange muggles. Keith'll be fine here so he focuses on his own checklist.

First things first, Lance heads to the sportswear shop. It's got all of the Quidditch merchandise he could ever want. The building is brightly lit with floating _lumos_ charmed orbs. They’re all shaped to look like famous players chasing each other on their brooms on a predetermined track. Lance reaches up and gives them a poke when they go over his head making them tumble into somersaults but they right themselves without trouble and keep travelling set paths.

Quidditch ball ornaments for trees. Brand new broom models and broom accessories. Lance’s eyes catch on the Hollyhead Harpies section of items, specifically a signed copy of their playbook from ten years ago. He reaches out for it before shaking his head. He's there to get Keith something for Christmas, not himself.

Gloves, he remembers with a snap.

He pushes his way through people to the equipment section. Shin guards. Helmets. It's all been picked over pretty good. All the National team merch has been cleared out. Probably a good thing as that stuff runs fairly expensive. There's a couple of pairs of Seeker and Chaser gloves with regional team logos printed on them.

Bigonville Bombers. Kenmare Kestrels. Wollongong Warriors.

"Ah! Sweetwater All-Stars!" Lance says approaching a pair.

He remembers Keith saying something about liking the Texas-based team in the Gryffindor common room. Looks like the last pair. He'll have to cut the fingertips though since they're technically Chaser gloves. Just as he gets his hands on them a girl pulls on them too. Their eyes meet and lightning of the competitive type sparks between them.

"Hands off," she says with a glare. "I saw them first."

"Fat chance," Lance says back. She looks familiar but he can’t place a name.

"Please?" she says, fluttering her eyes a little.

"Ha. You're really cute but you're not that cute," Lance smirks and she grumbles out a huff.

"I'll...give you three galleons if you let go," she offers. Straight to bribery when intimidation and guile don't work. She might be a Slytherin classmate now that he’s thinking about it. A second year? Third?

"No way," Lance shakes his head, tugging a little on the gloves. "It's Christmas Eve, no way I find another pair of these by the end of the day."

"That's why I'm offering to _pay_ ," she says, not relinquishing her grip. Her voice turns to a desperate whisper. "I _have_ to have these ones. She’s a Chaser. They're her favourite team."

Lance hears that and feels his resolve waver. He's weak for a helping a pretty girl in need. Though it could be a lie just to play on his emotions. After all, who would be so cruel at Christmas time as to refuse a damsel in distress?

He supposes he could find a different pair further down the line. Proper Seeker ones too and not a nice Chaser pair that he has to chop the fingers off of. They won’t be fancy but...

Lance releases the gloves and she blinks at him with confusion.

"They're yours," he says with a resigned sigh. "Hope your girl likes them."

"Th-Thanks!" she beams and holds the gloves close. She digs into her pocket and offers him the galleons to which he waves off.

"It's cool," he sighs. "Merry Christmas."

The girl takes off with a gleeful squeal towards the counter and Lance smiles softly. It's Christmas, no point in starting a fight over some gloves.

He goes down the line but doesn't see any that he truly likes. There's a few professional quality ones up high on a shelf. They’re awfully dull in comparison to the regional stuff. Plain black but with an assortment of colored linings. Same price as some of the fancy gloves but only because they have various enchantments.

Lance is finding himself partial to them. They may not be flashy like the others but this set adjusts for outside temperature. Lance tries on a pair and finds them cooling his palms in the warmth of the shop. Bet they warm up in the cold too. The proprietor confirms this for him when he asks.

Keith seems the type to appreciate a practical gift more than fancy brands anyway so he buys them. Even pays for the cashier to wrap them before stowing it away in his bag.

"Now, for Lion..."

****

Keith doesn't take long with his shopping even though he does a lot of it.

His first stop is Madam Malkin's, a clothing shop. He knows they make the standard robes for Hogwarts students there as well as tailored clothing. But he's far more interested in a pair of knitting needles he remembers. Last time he was there, they were working in the corner of the store to make a shawl of sorts out of shining yarn. When he asks about it the owner points him in the direction of Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment shopfront.

There he finds a number of interesting things. Some magic crochet hooks. A pair of knitting needles that change colors to alert the knitter that a stitch was dropped. There's another set of needles that will memorize a pattern at certain phrases and continues knitting until it finishes the project. Keith goes with the first as he gets the feeling Mrs. McClain would rather knit it herself than have something do it for her. He buys them but it barely makes a dent in his funds.

If they won’t accept money to pay them back for being so accommodating, then at least he can get the McClain family some nice presents for Christmas.

A new shop catches his eye. It's not magical in the least. Some kind of muggle wares shop that he's never seen before. Must have been put in when the school year started. Keith wanders in among the crowd to look at all the objects inside with other wide-eyed witches and wizards.

It's full of muggle stuff.  Fashion objects from clothes to jewelry. Comics where the pictures don't move. Calculators in every color and size. Rubber ducks. Watches with famous muggle actors and actresses on them. Sewing machines of varying sizes from varying eras. Portable TVs with built-in tape and DVD players.

The store owner is an older gentleman who seems to know very little about the uses for much of what he's selling. Just hypes up the strangeness of the muggle world to drum up some sales of his curiosities. Regardless, witches and wizards stare and touch at all the objects inside. Oooing and ahhing while some of them watch a movie on the screen.

Any witch or wizard under the age of twenty is usually unimpressed by these things. They've seen them all throughout secondary school and in wandering the muggle cities they likely grew up in. Most if not all muggle borns have cellphones of their own. Even Keith has several gaming systems back in Japan at his mother's estate and a cell phone that he uses when he's in the States. It's less conspicuous than talking into a magic coin but older magic folk are hard to convert to the modern age.

It's all junk really, just things people buy to say they have something muggle related. But Keith does pick up something. An old handheld game that runs on batteries. Looks like a brick. Weighs the same as one too. Comes with a handful of old games that are older than he is. He buys it from the shopkeep, thinking the twins will love playing it. If not, they have something new to pull apart and study.

Next up is Lance's sister, so he heads into Slug and Jiggers Apothecary to browse their potion decanters.

*****

Lance looks over his list and nods. Looks like everyone. And he even has enough leftover for lunch. Well...maybe some donuts.

"Pays to haggle," Lance snickers as he shoves the last of his coins into his pocket.

"Look, it's him," someone nearby mumbles to their friend, gesturing to someone across the street.

“Ugh, you’re right.”

Lance doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he’s never been able to resist his curiosity. Especially gossip of the wizarding variety. So he casually eyes the subject of their conversation.

It's a slender looking older gentleman dressed in a black tailored suit, with long silver white hair  pulled into a tight low ponytail. Sharp features on his face and crows feet at his eyes. Both of his hands rest on the ornamental knob of his finely crafted cane, his posture straight and proper as he talks with a family outside Gringotts.

"Must be the next muggle family he's sponsoring," they gossip.

"That makes three this year," the other responds. "Does he think it'll make people forgive? Or forget?"

"Who knows," says the first again.

Lance can't shake the feeling he's seen the old man before.

He has a stern look that seems almost on the verge of a sneer though he doesn't seem to be in a poor mood. In fact, there is the smallest of smiles on his face as he shakes the adults’ hands. The man kneels down to the child, a young girl holding a dozen books for secondary school. Says a few words to which she nods excitedly. He then gives her a pat on the head before returning to standing.

"Likely for appearances, I'll bet," whispers one. "A viper can shed it's skin all it wants...it's still a snake."

The acid and bile in those words brings a disgusted frown to Lance's face. No reason to listen to that tripe any longer. He turns back to look at the old man once more. He’s giving the family a nod to excuse himself before making his way down the street. Seems like a nice guy to him.

It isn't until he walks right by Lance that he spots the signet ring on the man's hand. Huh. That crest. It looks just like--and belatedly it hits him.

"Wait!" Lance shouts as the old man turns the corner.

*****

Keith looks over all the items in his bag with a prideful smirk. That makes at least two presents for everyone. A good thing he learned that shrinking spell in Charms or else his bag would be bursting at the seams. 

He still had so much money left over though. So he ended up buying a few year-long subscriptions for Lance's family. Some wizarding magazines such as _Green Thumbs: A Gnome's Guide to Garden Care_ for Mr. McClain and _Hogwarts Weekly,_ a newsletter for his wife. That one mostly covers student projects and teacher interviews and such. Lance's parents have never been to Hogwarts so having detailed pictures and articles about the people working there should be exciting for them.

Keith even got Lance a subscription to _Quidditch Monthly_ to be delivered to Hogwarts. He noticed there were a couple of old magazines in his room but nothing from recent years. They were all well worn suggesting Lance read them long after they became out of date. Must have given up buying them to save up for college.

Feels good getting all these presents for Lance and his family. Warming enough to bring a content smile to his face. He almost feels like Santa Claus.

A quick look at his watch says he has more than half an hour before meeting back up with Lance. With a shrug he decides to head there now since he's finished. He's about to cross the street when he sees Lance running down a sidestreet, urgent look on his face.

Keith furrows a brow with confusion before crossing the street and following. After a few more streets the crowds thin out and Keith catches up to him without trouble.

"What are you doing?" Keith pants but Lance is ignoring him in favor of talking to a lady on the street.

"Excuse me ma'am, did you see an old guy come through here? Tall and uh, white hair. Nice suit," he asks, as he describes.

"You're not going to hassle him are you?" she asks with a disapproving frown. "He's done nothing to hurt no one. And anyone who says he has is a lia--"

"No no, nothing like that. I just want to talk to him," Lance assures her. She looks him over, considering him with shrewd eyes before answering.

He likes to visit a cafe nearby to pick up lunch sometimes. A quiet out of the way place he used to go with his wife. She then warns him that if he causes any trouble she'll box his ears herself and give him warts something fierce. Right on his arse.

"I won't cause trouble! And thanks!" he tells her, shaking her hands and taking off again.

"Lance! What are--"

"I just gotta do this thing real quick!" Lance yells over his shoulder. “If you can keep up, be my guest--otherwise see you at noon!”

Keith frowns with a grumble in his throat. He hates running for extended periods but he hates being left in the dark more. Guess he could just go back to the main street or...the lady did tell them the address for the cafe.

And now he's entirely too curious to mind his own business so he heads out to find out what all the mystery is about.

*****

Before long Lance arrives at the cafe and peeks in through the window. While he's doing that Keith finally makes it to the street, just passing a bookstore. He could join Lance but he looks very focused and he’d hate to interrupt something. So instead he browses the books on a stand and keeps an eye out for whenever he’s finished.

The old man comes out of the cafe carrying a bag for his food and Lance wastes no time in addressing him.

"Excuse me, sir?" Lance starts and the man turns to look at him. He scans Lance up and down before quirking a brow.

"Are you lost?" he asks, voice just as sharp as his features.

"Oh no, not lost," Lance says then nervously points. "Are you...You’re Draco Malfoy, right?"

Keith can't help but lean out a little and stare. Tall, platinum blonde hair, well dressed, and the almost-perpetual-sneer. He sure _looks_ like a Malfoy.

Lance wanted to meet him? That’s why he took off like that? What for?

The old man seems to stiffen at this inquiry but within seconds his stoic look returns. He stands up a little straighter and lets out a resigned sigh before returning his gaze to Lance. This is not the first time someone has approached him like this.

"Well, get on with it," he says.

"On with...what?" Lance quirks a brow.

"If you're going to spit on me, I'd appreciate it if you didn't aim for my food," he says curtly.

"What? No! I'd never--" Lance explains his hands in front of him to defend his character. He then lowers them with sympathy in his voice. "People actually do that? Spit on you?"

"Among other things," he admits with a sigh, relieved to hear that Lance won't be indulging in any harassment. "Is there something you wanted from me? I don't do autographs."

"Oh no, nothing like that," Lance chuckles a little. He digs into his bag and pulls out his duolibri. Malfoy's eyes fall on it with recognition. "You made this right?"

Malfoy nods.

"I just wanted to thank you for making it. I know it's hard charmswork," Lance says. "Not a lot of people can do a Protean Charm, even as an adult. And you learned to do it in your sixth year. That's younger than I am now so I can't even imagine the mad skills you have."

"That sounds perilously like a compliment," Malfoy smirks. "I don't receive many."

"Well it is," Lance chuckles and rubs his thumbs on the cover nervously. "This was given to me, as a gift. You...wouldn't have any way of knowing who bought it?"

Keith's eyes go wide as his heart thunders in his chest. Christ, he hopes Malfoy doesn't know.

"I'm afraid not," Malfoy shakes his head. "They are donated to varying stores. I don't keep track."

Oh thank god. Keith just lost five years on his life from that alone.

"Figured as much but thought I'd ask," Lance sighs and puts it back in his bag. "Would it be alright if I asked you another question?"

"I suppose," he says but turns to one of the cafe tables. "But I'd rather sit if you're going to. This cane isn't merely decoration."

Lance pulls a chair for him and Malfoy puts his bag on top of the table before taking a seat. Lance follows suit and drops into the chair across from him. Malfoy admits that not many people talk to him amiably, even less are children so this is quite the deferment from his usual. An amusing change in his daily routine.

"I'm a student at Hogwarts. It's my first year," Lance says.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. My parents were really excited about it because for a while there we weren't sure we'd be able to afford it," Lance chuckles with a sad smile. "I was really looking forward to making them proud. Getting into my favorite house. Making the House team."

Malfoy continues to listen as he talks.

"I didn't," Lance tells him and laughs a little. "On either count. I got placed in Slytherin. And for a while I hated it. I didn't want anything to do with this house that churns out--"

"Bad wizards and witches?" Malfoy finishes for him.

"Sorry...but yeah, that's what I thought," Lance nods. "I know it's not true. Anyone can be a dick, doesn't matter what house they come from."

Malfoy nods in agreement.

"But I feel like this house rivalry thing makes everything worse," Lance says with a sigh. "Do you think...the houses made it impossible for you to be friends with Harry?"

Lance goes quiet waiting for a response, looking down into his open palm as he massages it with his thumb. The implication is there, even if he doesn't say it. Would it be impossible for him to be friends or something more with someone from a different house?

Malfoy seems to be giving the question a lot of consideration as he twists the ring on his finger. It’s an old wedding band Lance realizes. The old widower stares out into the street as people pass and he lets out a tired sigh.

"I don't believe the housing or the stigma that comes with each house is to blame for how Potter and I were back then," he says and sighs again. "No, it was...mostly the fault of poor upbringing and poorer decisions on my part. I'd like to say my parents were to blame but...I must accept the ramifications of my own actions. As does Potter, since he is not without some fault of his own."

He stops twisting his ring and returns his eyes to Lance.

"We both did and said things that only made situations worse and widen the gap between us. It was not the fault of our houses, just our prides," he admits. "We learned from each other though. As long as you have your family--your friends--there's no path that can't be taken back to redeem oneself. I'm...still walking that path. And I have accepted that I may never stop walking it."

"Wow," Lance nods with a smile. "You sound so cool. And wise."

"Yes, I know. Nothing like those atrocious comics they print of me," he huffs with a disapproving snort. Malfoy stands and grasps the handle of his bag. "They also draw me shorter than Potter which is blatantly wrong...I was always taller than him. Even today."

"Can I ask you one more question?" Lance asks as he stands. Malfoy gives him a nod. "Do you ever...talk to Harry? Did you ever become friends later?"

Malfoy stands up straight and squares his shoulders. With the bag around his wrist he puts both hands on his cane, his eyes closed as he frowns.

"Potter and I have what you'd call a...long standing rivalry that did not end after the war. It did not even end when our sons became good friends," he says. "But after Astoria..."

His voice drifts off a little there as he thumbs the gold ring on his hand. Eyes soft and wistful for a moment before he clears his throat and continues as if nothing is amiss. Voice firm and as serious sounding as his face looks.

"Twice a month for the past twenty years Potter and I meet for dinner. He brings his, frankly, terrifying wife and I bring the Port. We eat, drink, and talk about our children and our jobs," he tells Lance. "Offer suggestions on ways to improve our respective foundations and such."

"Sounds nice," Lance says with a slight smile.

"Yes...and before he leaves we play a round of chess. Wizard’s chess in which he cheats and I call him out," he continues. "Words often fly. I insult his ridiculous mop of hair that he still refuses to cut or style. He calls me a spoiled snot-nosed wanker and throws a fist."

That sounds less nice but there’s no malice suggested in his tone.

"His wife reels him in before he can throw his shoulder--again. I tell him how lucky he is that I have arthritis. He promises that next time he'll lay me out like Granger. As if I needed reminding about _that_ incident," Malfoy grumbles before sighing. "And then we do it all again two weeks later. Only he brings homebrewed firewater courtesy of Weasleby and I spend the next three days hating myself and him because it's _horrid_ but damn if I'm going to let _Potter_ outdrink _me_."

Lance just gapes with an open-mouthed smile because this is the best story he's ever heard and its not in any magazine. Not in any book. It's coming straight from the mouth of Draco Malfoy himself and it’s FANTASTIC.

No one will ever believe him.

"So I suppose...you could call it friendship of a sort," Malfoy shrugs. "Nothing like what it could have been...but better than most."

“That sounds awesome,” Lance laughs. “The tabloids make it sound like you and The Three _hate_ each other.”

“There’s still a great deal of tension between Granger and I...but it’s getting better,” he says with a tired frown. “She at least speaks _to me_ instead of _at me_ during our Muggleborn Scholarship Foundation board of director meetings.” Then he adds in a low tone, “Even if it took ten years after the war for that to start.”

He may sound grumpy but something in that small curl of a smirk suggests contentedness in his lot. Malfoy is happy where he’s at, even if not everyone likes him.

“I’m glad that things turned out for you,” Lance smiles and picks up his own bag and shoulders it. “Gives me hope for my own future.”

“Things should be better for your generation than it ever was for mine,” Malfoy says with a considering nod. “And if there’s something you don’t like about society or how things are run...change it. As one Slytherin to another, I’m sure you can manage it, Mr…?”

“McClain. Lance McClain,” he says and they shake hands. “You probably don’t hear this much but...it was an honor to meet you, sir.”

Malfoy smiles at that, giving Lance another firm shake and a pat on his shoulder. He tells him the feeling is mutual.

The older man reaches into his pocket and extends a business card. In case Lance would like to talk with him again sometime as he quite enjoyed it. Especially talking trash about Potter, which he rarely gets to do in a playful manner without someone taking it out of context for one of those poison-pen articles. Lance takes it ane eyes it with interest.

Printed on the thick rectangle card are Malfoy’s foundation, name, and office hours--the second being in the smallest print. The font is very plain but done in a dark green ink which shimmers silver when tilted in the light. It even has a phone number, most likely for his muggleborn clients. The back of the card is far more interesting.

It has seperate boxes with labels on them. Each box is a location from what Lance can tell. Diagon Alley. The MSF building. Home. The Ministry of Magic. Travelling. At current the box labelled Diagon Alley has a big dot in it.

“You won’t need it to find me,” Malfoy tells him. “I’m frequently in Diagon Alley and often hard to miss. I come here to pick up lunch nearly every day and wouldn’t mind amicable company--on occasion.”

Malfoy isn’t his lifetime idol, not the way Ginny and Harry are but he knows a rare treat when he sees one. The rich and affluent head of the Malfoy family, who never does interviews with the Daily Prophet, wants to talk to him again sometime? Lance can’t say no to that.  

On top of that, rumors say that Draco Malfoy is the world’s leading collector, curator, and guardian of the most dangerous magical artifacts in the world. One day, Lance would love to see his collection, not to mention his workshop. Man, if he ever gets to see him in the midst of his charmswork--he might faint dead away at the sight.

“The number is only for the MSF office in London,” Malfoy warns him. “There’s too much magical interference at my home and elsewhere. So if it’s urgent, call them. My secretary will forward a quick owl to me.”

“Got it,” Lance nods and pockets the card. He checks his watch and sighs. “I’d love to talk more but I have a deadline. Lunch with a friend and then back home to prepare for tomorrow.”

“Good day then,” Malfoy says and tips his head in farewell. “Enjoy your lunch. And happy holidays, McClain.”

“Thanks,” Lance beams and waves at him as he runs down the street. “Merry Christmas!”

*****

Keith's late. Lance pouts as he checks his watch again. They agreed on noon, right? Or did he get the time wrong? Lance's stomach growls a little so he pats it with gentle reassurances.

“It's alright buddy. Just a few minutes more and we'll go to the closest bakery for some pastries, I promise,” he sighs.

When he looks up again to search he spots a familiar face from his dorm. Young with long silver hair pulled back at his nape. Lotor. The holidays haven't changed his formal style of dress. Fancy slacks and tightly tailored black peacoat. Prim and proper even when not in a uniform.

Lance never took him to be the last-minute-shopper type. He's always prepared days in advance for everything. What's he doing in Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve? At the moment, he's browsing an apothecary stand with a disinterested look on his face.

Not shopping. Bored.

"Or waiting for someone," he decides as Lotor looks around expectantly down the street.

That's when Lance spots someone slide up and tap the Slytherin's shoulder. Another familiar face but from the Quidditch field. Pidge's brother Matt. Dressed in a vintage leather jacket and Hufflepuff scarf for the chill in the air.

Lotor breaks from his stoic frown when the other leans in to kiss him on the cheek. His lips curl up into a smile as they talk a bit. Matt gestures to a bag he has that they both look into with interest. Some books, textbooks of some kind. Lotor is already cracking one open to scan through with focused eyes as Matt looks on fondly. While Lotor picks the articles apart, the Hufflepuff slowly directs the both of them down the street arm in arm.

"What’s wrong?" asks a voice making Lance jump. It's Keith, looking perplexed with a raised brow.

"Nothing, why?" Lance asks.

"You looked down," Keith shrugs and adjusts his shoulder bag. "Like you just lost a Quidditch match."

"Oh...nothing like that," Lance shakes his head and eyes the snuggled up couple across the street again before clearing his throat and turning back to Keith. "You're late."

"Got turned around," he says. "Sorry."

In fact, he’d gotten stuck in the bookstore. The woman owning it asked him at length about the history book he was holding as he browsed. The conversation got lengthy on her side so he ended up having to just buy it so he could leave without looking like a loiterer. By the time he got out of there Lance was long gone.

Luckily, Shiro likes that kind of old history stuff so he ended up hitting the mailcenter to send it off. He doesn't have to know that Keith almost completely forgot about getting him a gift. While he was there he set up the rest of his gifts to be wrapped and dropped off at Lance’s house on Christmas morning.

"Guess I can forgive you--," Lance smirks and throws an arm around his shoulder. "--if you treat me to lunch. I'm starving."

Keith rolls his eyes but nods with a little blush Lance fails to notice.

Treating Lance to lunch? He's had dreams like this. And if he ignores reality hard enough, he can pretend it's an actual date. Lance then pulls him along to the nearest restaurant as he gestures animatedly with his hands.

"I have the best story. You won't believe who I met," Lance grins.

*****

Lunch is a nice serving of warm soup and sandwiches. The place is a little crowded and noisy but all in all the service is quick and professional. Though, Keith notices how frazzled their waiter is trying to seat and serve a dozen tables in a timely fashion. Poor guy looks ready to drop by the end of their meal.

"Split check or together, sirs?" he asks as he stacks the dishes onto his arm.

"I got it," Keith waves when Lance pulls a few coins from his pocket.

"I was kidding before Keith," Lance shakes his head. "I'm not going to take your money for lunch. Let me chip in at least."

"I said I got it," Keith says a little harder and Lance sits back not willing to fight him on it.

"Fine."

"Here," Keith says to the waiter. "Keep the change."

The guy nearly chokes when Keith hands him a dozen gold coins.

"Th-this is too much," he stammers, holding the money out. "Your bill's only three galleons and two sickles."

"Merry Christmas," Keith shrugs and shoulders his bag, ready to head out.

Lance gawks just as much as the waiter does at the shining coins in his hand. But Keith's already at the exit. He turns, his face impatient, and he gestures for Lance to hurry up. Didn't his mom want them back to prepare for some kind of festivities?

Lance nods and scrambles to grab his stuff while the waiter blinks in shock. There's a mumbled thanks from the waiter before he’s shrieked at by a noisy customer. Then another cries out for a refill. He looks a little flustered but pockets the coins and returns to work in a hurry but with a smile on his face. Lance smirks at that and catches up with Keith, bumping his fist to his shoulder.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen," Lance beams.

"What?" Keith frowns, a blush tinting his cheeks. He looks away with a huff. "All I did was tip him."

"Yeah, like 300%," Lance snorts then points back to the restaurant as the travel down the street. "He looked ready to faint! You're that guy's hero! And kind of mine now!"

"Shh! I am not," Keith denies his face going redder. "I just wanted to clear out my pockets. Galleons are heavy. It's really not a big deal."

"You can't take a compliment can you?" Lance laughs and hooks his arm around his neck. "Look at your face, you're so embarrassed! Why? Afraid people might think you're actually a cool guy?"

"Shut up," Keith huffs. "I don't care what anyone thinks about me," he adds and tries shaking him off but Lance holds firm and it only makes his heart race more.

"Oh? Not even that guy? The one you said you liked? Uh--" Lance purses his lips and looks to the sky trying to recall. "I don't think you ever said his name. I'd remember if you did. Anyway, you care what he thinks of you, right?"

"I...sort of, yeah, I guess," Keith admits with a mumble.

"Bet he'd have swooned," Lance says, as if he knows too well. "That's how you know a good egg, you know? If they're nice to wait staff."

"Hmm," Keith nods.

He notes that Lance was very polite to the waiter too, even when his drink was wrong. Didn't bother correcting the guy and drank it without a word. He even partially bussed the table when it was time to go. It just reaffirms what Keith already knows about him--Lance is a great catch himself.

"Next time we're back at Hogwarts, point him out to me. I'll nonchalantly tell him how cool you are," Lance promises as he lets him go. "Or I can just lay it on _real_ thick. He'll be falling for you within a week, McClain guarantee."

The irony keeps hitting Keith and he lets out a low pathetic chuckle. Like he's ever going to do that. Even if it wasn’t Lance he’d never ask someone else to talk to his crush for him. He just declines the offer with a shake of his head.

"You don't have to do that," Keith says.

"Hey, that's what a wingman is for," Lance says giving his shoulder a pat before leaning in to whisper. "Plus, I want to meet this guy. You never talk about anyone you like. Is he hot?"

Keith feels his cheeks warm and flush without his permission. He swallows nothing but spit in response to speaking. He tries again, opens his mouth but the words just stay in his throat. All he can do is breathe as heat spreads on his cheeks. Lance bursts with laughter at that reaction making Keith clench his mouth shut with an annoyed frown.

"Oh man, you're head over heels!" Lance cackles. "Can’t even form words! You've got it _bad_!"

"Shut up," Keith huffs, shoving Lance and then crossing his arms. Being made fun of by his crush for having a crush was not on his list of things to do today. Embarrassing.

"Aww come on," Lance pouts, trying to lean an elbow on Keith's shoulder. He fails when Keith won't let him. "I'm sorry, Keith. I don't mean to make fun,” he apologizes, tone sincere. “I think it's great that there's someone who steals your words away. It's hella romantic even."

"That ever...that ever happen to you?" Keith wonders, finally letting Lance lean that elbow on him.

Lance's lips purse and go side to side as his brows furrow. He hums as he thinks but then shrugs as he turns to Keith.

"Not really," Lance admits. "But then...I've never actually _talked_ with the guy of my dreams."

"Your _dreams_?" Keith swallows.

"Yeah," Lance says with a sad smile. "Bet it's nice, feeling like words can't do someone justice. Kinda jealous of you. But maybe one day..."

Keith looks on as Lance sighs and takes his arm off his shoulder. He stares at the palm of his hand before digging them both into his pockets. His eyes go somber, deep in thought as they walk the street with nothing but silence between them. It’s the longest stretch of time he’s seen Lance say nothing.

Lance comes back to himself ten minutes later as they approach the brick wall entrance. Keith opens his umbrella and Lance raises his hood before tapping the bricks with his wand.

"Anyway," Lance says after clearing his throat, his smile finally back. "I think it's great. So what if you get a little tongue-tied? If you're doing things right, the only thing you need your tongue for doesn't require words--if you get my drift."

That comment brings Keith's flush back in full force which in turn makes Lance laugh all over again as he leads them out into the London rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	17. The Moon (Reversed)

_“[This] may indicate a fundamental unhappiness with your present situation but also confusion over what else you_ **_could do_ ** _and what you really_ **_want to do_ ** _. It may be that you believe that what you really want to do with your life is impractical or unrealistic, or your past experiences in life have convinced you that you are stuck with what you have and it is too late to change now.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Keith has never been a part of a tamale making party. Has no idea what the components to a tamale are or how they're put together and in what proportions. But they're asking him to help anyway. They all seem to have the same puppy eyes that Lance can pull out at a moments notice. And Keith's powerless in their wake.

The second he walks in the door with the others, he's jostled and chatted with at every turn by every member of Lance's extended family, including but not limited to: aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, grandparents and great-grandparents. They're all so excited to meet him and nearly all call him hijo as he travels through the house. He's shaken so many hands--if he didn't already have calluses from Quidditch he'd have them from all the people squeezing his hands.

He's been told so many names he's not sure he can remember them all but he tries. Oh, he tries. He gets names wrong several times within minutes but by the giggling laughter, they don't seem to mind. They just gently correct him, saying he'll learn over time and not to stress out about it.

Thankfully this house is large enough to house all twenty-something of the people in it, even if it is a little tight. It's Lance's Aunt's home. It was a short bus ride from the McClain residence. Lance's entire family (Keith included) stuffed their arms full to carry all the materials they'd need for the party. He could hardly believe they'd ever need that much food for a family gathering.

"Do you know how big our family is?" Lance laughs behind the huge bag of corn husks. "This is just our contribution to the party. The other members are bringing supplies too."

Keith thought Mrs. McClain was kidding when she said they'd be making hundreds of tamales but from the look of the group in the kitchen and all the materials brought in...it's beginning to look like an all-day affair.

And now he’s a part of the family workforce.

"Does this look right?" Keith asks after spreading the masa onto the husk just the way he was shown.

"Yes hijo!" says an excitable woman with a thick accent. She gives his cheek a pinch with a smile. Keith thinks she's an...aunt? Or maybe a younger looking grandmother? "Such fast hands! You’re doing well!"

"Thanks?" Keith manages to smile and looks over at Lance doing his part on the assembly line. He looks busy but spares a second to shoot Keith a supportive thumbs up.

Apparently, they gave Keith the job he's most useful for. Good dexterous hands are perfect for spreading masa in a timely fashion. He and two younger girls are spreading the dough in a nice half inch layer on the husks before passing them down the line.

At first, they’re much faster than him having been doing this since they were tots. And he has to constantly keep dipping his fingers in water to keep the stuff from sticking to him but once he gets a working rhythm he catches up to them in speed. His tamales aren't as neat as theirs but no one's made an off comment about them or attempted to change his technique so...he figures he's doing alright.

Lance is enjoying his job filling each one that comes his way with a dollop of meat filling and then rolling it up nice and tight, tying it off with a strand of corn husk when finished. He looks quite pleased with himself. Very proud. He even makes a comment about Keith’s group, saying they’re slacking off. One of the girls flicks a spoonful of masa dough right into his face in retribution earning a round of laughter all around.

At the moment they're on pork filling but the women assure them there will be much more than that. Chicken, beef, some veggie options and even cheese filled ones. They'll be here until dark but don't worry they say! All the tamale workers will get paid in a couple dozen tamales of each kind to take home with them.

They steam them as they go and only when the last pork one is put into the pot for steaming do they take a momentary break. They drink and eat snacks and chat away. Not that they weren't talking as they made the food but now it's far more animated and purposeful. Lance's family talks and talks and it's easy to see where Lance gets it from. No wonder he can’t go long without speaking at school. Keith himself is content to lean against a counter and drink his guarapo juice while he eats a few tamales from the very first batch.

Of course, it's fucking delicious just like everything else this family makes. Bet they don’t even write down their recipes. And they make them all by hand! That's some kind of magic in itself. He tries to only eat two for now, since he did have lunch not even an hour ago, but the littlest old lady he's ever seen in his life has other ideas for him.

Thick grey hair pulled into a braid over her hunched shoulders. A colorful floral dress with a beaded shawl that emanates magical energy. Probably keeps her cool because he can’t imagine her surviving in this ungodly heat with all the layers she’s wearing. She has a hundred little wrinkles but most of them focused around her soft smiling face.

She grabs a plate and pushes it towards Keith. Too skinny she says. Eat more she insists. He doesn't have the heart to tell her 'no' so he stuffs two more into his mouth despite not truly having room for it. This satisfies her enough to move onto her next target, insisting they're all too skinny and need more food.

No one refuses her. Almost as if they know it unwise to do so.

Before long, they're back at it again but this time with the chicken filling. It's only when they start the beef ones that Keith feels his hands cramping up. He thanks God for the music and the ice cold drinks someone keeps bringing in for them. They do a sufficient job in distracting him from his aching fingers.

Eventually, Lance's father and a handful of relatives enter. To relieve them for the rest of the day. They'll handle all the veggie and cheese filled tamales. The dessert ones too. They're thanked for their hard work and urged into the other room to rest their tired hands and backs as they listen to the radio and talk.

All the young ones collapse onto a sofa with exhausted sighs which makes the older folk laugh. They pat Keith's shoulder and tell him he did well for his first tamale party. He will be taking home as many tamales as he can carry, they promise him. He’s pretty sure he’s already eaten enough to last him through Christmas.

The little old lady from before comes and sits next to Keith, patting his hand with hers while smiling.

"Such a good boy," she hums then turns his hand over to look at his palm. Her fingers trace the different lines with keen interest. "Hmm...yes, I see...a very good boy."

"Nan, don't do that without asking," Lance says, his voice soft but firm. It seems like something he's had to say before.

"Oh, hijo. Lo siento," she apologizes to Keith with a smile. "I did not mean to intrude."

"I don't mind," Keith tells her. "You were reading my palm?"

She nods slowly with a sage smile, like a wise shaman as she pats his hand.

Nan then asks, "Would you like to know what I see, hijo?"

"Why not?" Keith shrugs and Lance snorts.

He doubts it'll be anything probative considering divination is far more an art than a science. No one except a select few has been able to reliably divine anything from palms nowadays. One is more likely to be a metamorphmagus than have 'the gift'. The most she could tell him are things he already knows about himself. Past events, personality and whatever.

"Don't believe a word she says, Keith. It's all hokum," Lance rolls his eyes and an uncle smacks his arm for being disrespectful.

She ignores his insult and heartily she turns Keith’s hand over. She peers into the creases of his lines while tracing them over again. A number of expressions grace her face, ranging from contemplative to affirming to surprised. Nan then pats his hand before leaning in to whisper.

"I see...a young man with a lion's spirit," she tells him. "He is brave and strong. With solid walls. Never says no to challenge. This is you, sí?"

So far so good. Kind of eerie that she specifically said lion.

Keith nods as Nan gives him another one of those soft sweet smiles. This time he watches with curious interest as she looks at his other hand. Presses his fingers apart and eyes the creases. She smiles and taps his palm on a specific spot.

"A life-changing event here and here," she reveals. "Small break in the fate line and slight change in direction. What gentle soul did you meet as a little one?"

Shiro, Keith thinks without hesitation. Everything for him changed when Shiro showed up.

At first, Keith thought he was only there for the paycheck his parents were giving him but it became obvious that Shiro cared about more than just money or some obligation to the Kogane name. He wanted to help Keith because he saw the potential in him. Wanted to help it grow instead of letting it go unchecked and unrefined. Keith respected his skills from the dueling circuit but that soon grew into admiration for his character.

That's when Keith started caring about spellwork and stopped fighting in school. He finally had someone looking out for him. Someone to guide him. Someone who cared and that he cared about in turn. A brother in a way but better than that in Keith's opinion. Because their friendship wasn't out of familial obligation but a conscious choice.

Weird that she knew Shiro was a gentle soul.

"Family friend," Keith answers. "Said he'd always be there if I needed him."

"He became a lifelong presence," Nan nods with a soft smile. She then points to the other break with an amused chuckle. "This one. Much more recent and...impactful. Meet someone special, hijo?"

Keith finds goosebumps erupting on his arm despite the heat.

Special? Recent? The only thing that comes to mind is...a flash of Keith punching Lance in the mouth in the hall at orientation and then getting blood spat in his eyes. He grimaces at the memory but...it seems to accurately encompass the word 'impactful' well enough.

"Maybe," Keith shrugs in an attempt to appear indifferent.  But then he lowers his voice so Lance won't overhear. "Is that one...a lifelong presence too?"

"Often can be," she nods. "But fate lines...only tell of events. Not attachments. If there is a lifelong presence of this person, it is because you choose to make it so."

Keith takes his hand back and stares at the lines. She can tell all that? From his hand? He doesn’t see anything. Guess he doesn’t possess ‘the sight’. He closes them with a sigh to which Nan chuckles and pats him gently again at the shoulder.

"Young love is tough, sí?" she smiles. "Worry not hijo. Your heart line is good. Not like Lancito's."

"Hey!" Lance objects, suddenly a part of the conversation. "Talk about Keith's weird hand all you want but don't talk about my heart line.”

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Keith asks with a teasing smirk on his face.

"Nothing is wrong with it!" Lance insists, offense taken. He then points at his Nan. "Because Palmistry isn't _real_ _!_ Line shapes don't mean _anything_ _!_ So there's no reason to believe it or even talk about it!"

Nan doesn't respond to that with anything but an amused chuckle. She excuses herself to check on everyone in the kitchen. To make sure they’re eating. She gives each person she passes a pat on the head as she goes. Lance's sister leans in over the back of the couch and next to Keith's ear.

“You wanna know about his hand?” she asks.

"Don't--" Lance says but it's too late.

"His heart line basically says he's a big slut who'll never succeed at love because he doesn't take relationships seriously enough," she grins and Lance throws a fruit at her with a frown. It misses because it's just a warning shot--Lance only misses if he wants to.

"Enough, V," Lance warns, ready to throw more. “Just shut it.”

"It's cause his line is wavy with a million breaks. Until it touches some emotionally influencing event on his fate line, Lance is doomed to a life of shallow one night stands," she snickers. “Forever alone.”

"Damn it V! I said--" Lance shouts, throwing another. “Shut it!”

Veronica catches it with her own Chaser skills and throws it back, nailing Lance hard in the forehead. She lets out a victory shout as he groans in pain while rubbing the bump. Lance switches to Spanish in the attempt to keep the conversation from Keith.

" _Can we stop talking about fate and Palmistry and all that bullshit? It’s fucking annoying._ "

 _"Never bothered you before_ ," Veronica says with a raised brow and a frown.

_“Bothers me now, so--!”_

" _You used to joke about it all the time. Thought it was hilarious. Called it a blessing_."

Keith hasn't seen Lance this upset since before they started playing Quidditch together. Since that fight the first day. Face pinched into barely containable irritation. His body is tense, like a coil ready to pop. Or a snake rearing back to strike. Instead of attacking though Lance just stands suddenly and strides to the front door.

" _It's not funny anymore_!" Lance snaps at her and then huffs. "I'm going to get some air."

The room is quiet when the door closes but not for long. The family takes their eyes away from his leaving to start new conversations. About family, friends, and current events in the wizarding world and muggle one. Even Veronica just rolls her eyes at his tantrum before starting in on a talk about a new plant she's working with. No one seems surprised at all by the sibling tiff. As if it’s a common occurrence.

Keith keeps looking at the door as time passes. Three minutes. Five. Then ten. Should someone go check on him?

When no one’s busy trying to engage him in conversation, Keith stands and goes to peer outside. He thinks Lance must be long gone by now. Maybe he went for a walk to a corner store or something. But then Keith spots a familiar foot poking out from the other side of the front gate.

Still here.

Keith exits and walks down the steps, approaching slow until he's on the other side of the fence that marks the perimeter of Tia’s yard. He can barely see Lance’s outline through the spaces between the planks. He’s leaning his back against it, taking calming breaths and smacking his balled fist on the surface in slow firm beats. Must be his way of calming himself. It’s a lot healthier than Keith’s usual method of breaking things.

The pounding suddenly stops and in its place, there’s a bit of shuffling. A book opens and pages flip before coming to a stop. Lance sighs and whispers out loud as a pen scratches on paper.

"There once was an idiot named Lance, who asked any he could for a dance," he mumbles slowly as he writes his limerick. "Cause with a broken heart line, better to have a good time, instead of a doomed romance."

Keith's eyes soften with a sympathetic frown. Knowing Lance is directly on the other side of the fence, his fingers reach out and brush the surface. The limericks keep coming.

"Moron thought, nothing wrong with that. After all, it’s fun being at-bat," Lance continues his rhyme before letting out another dispirited sigh. "But...it sure gets tiring, when the pitcher keeps firing...and your swing never makes contact."

Keith’s heart aches to hear that. A pounding pain in his chest like a stake being hammered in. So much so that he grabs his shirt at his heart and presses his brow to the fence with a swallow.

So this is what’s been bothering him. Why he keeps looking at his hand with that pensive look. Now that things are getting serious with Lion, Lance is actually worried about it all going wrong. Just like all the times before this.

Keith wonders how many times has Lance started something with someone, certain it wouldn't last but tried anyway? How many times did he put himself through heartbreak? How often he got his hopes up thinking _maybe this time it'll be different_?

Lance is tenacious. He'd never give up if he thought something--someone--was worth the effort.  But that little limerick worries Keith a little. Sounds like Lance is getting tired of failing. Tired of waiting. Like he’s ready to give up.

Keith almost goes out there, just so he can offer something. A word of comfort. A pat on the shoulder. Anything so he won't sound so sparkless. But then Lance chuckles. It's not a sound Keith expected at all so he holds back a moment longer.

"Then came a mysterious Lion. Tempting with his words, like a siren," he sighs and Keith can just tell, even without looking, that Lance is smiling softly. "And knowing I might drown, I'd still swim toward his sound...for the chance to not be an island."

Lance lets out a lovestruck sigh as he sinks to the ground. Then he groans with frustration.

"God that's so dumb," Lance gripes. "And the syllable count feels off. He's going to think you're a fucking imbecile. And shit--already wrote it in ink!"

Keith knows what’ll happen next. Lance has a habit of scratching out his mistakes. So Lion won’t see them. Gets embarrassed so easily when it comes to his poetry attempts. Keith’s opened the book before to find poems obliterated with scribbles before he could read them.

Not this time. To rescue those poems he walks outside the gate before Lance can press the pen to the page. Lance starts at his arrival and closes his book with a surprised squeak.

"You didn't...uh...how long were you standing there?" Lance asks nervously, something of a flush on his cheeks as he gets to his feet again. "What did you hear?"

"Something about being an imbecile?" Keith says and Lance relaxes with a relieved sigh.

"Good. Good," he nods and stuffs the book into his cargo pocket. "What's up?"

"Did you get enough air?" Keith asks. "Or are you going to murder your sister when you come back?”

Lance can’t help but burst with laughter. He braces a hand on the fence for support, at least until he stops laughing, and shakes his head.

It’s clear that Keith doesn’t have siblings, he says. Lance doesn’t think he’s ever gone a day without fighting with his sister in some way. From harmless teasing to straight up screaming. They know exactly how to push each other’s buttons to piss the other off and do it frequently. Like a game.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re fine,” Lance assures him while looking back to the house.

Normally, that little row in there would have stayed playful. As Veronica said, it used to be a joke between them--that stupid heart line nonsense. She’d call him an eternal playboy. He’d laugh saying look out or he’ll steal her man with his slutty slutty ways. And that’s where it’d end, with the both of them cackling.

All in good fun, they’d say. She had no way of knowing he felt differently about it now so its hard to really fault her.

“V just...touched a nerve. And I overreacted,” Lance says.

“You asked her to stop,” Keith points out, reminding him that Veronica isn’t without some blame.

“I know but I didn’t have to yell. I’ll apologize when I go in,” Lance sighs and puts on his best fake smile. “Can’t make waves at Christmas or Santa will withhold presents.”

They return to the house together. Lance talks with family members about this and that. Mostly about his classes at Hogwarts. Keith gets a few curious questions from relatives too. How he’s doing in school and if he likes his teachers. He’s doing well enough and his teachers are fine.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Lance quietly taking his sister aside and talking to her with an apologetic look on his face. She listens with a pouting frown that turns sympathetic as the conversation goes. Afterward, she gives him a half smile and a hug. And some sort of agreement to cool it on the Palmistry talk.

By the end of the day, Lance’s family heads back on the bus to go home. They have so many tamales Keith’s not sure how they’ll store them, let alone find the time to eat them all. They even handed a basket specifically to Keith with about ten large tamales of each filling type, complete with instructions on how to warm them up for eating.

Mrs. McClain does him a solid and puts them away for him. Turns out the fridge in the kitchen has a rather large undetectable extending charm on it. She puts bag after bag of tamales in when it seems like there shouldn’t be room. One of the things she says she’s so grateful to magic for.

When dinner rolls around most of the McClain family isn’t hungry. Too stuffed from eating tamales while on the assembly line to have room for anything more. So mostly they gather in the living room around the hearth with cold drinks. No real fire flickers inside since Cuba’s hot enough, but the twins put together a nice little illusion of one in its place. Certainly adds to the atmosphere of Christmas time.

Lance and his sister put up the last of the Christmas decorations without the use of their wands. Seems to be a family tradition in the McClain house. Sparkling lights, metal bells, and glittery stars frame all the doorways and corners. The house was already a bright and colorful place but with all the extra decorations it’s even more so.

Keith gets pulled by Mrs. McClain back into the kitchen. She’s about to make some tostones for tomorrow. She heard from Lance that he liked the plantain chips she sent and she wanted to show him how ‘real’ plantains are fried up. So he spends the next hour in there with her learning how to cut, fry, flatten, and fry plantains to make tostones.

He gets to eat a few here and there, to test for flavor and crunchiness, obviously. Keith finds them a hundred times better than the ones Lance shares with the team. Both him and Mrs. McClain have to stop themselves from eating them as they salt them and put them away for tomorrow. The twins come in to bother them for some but Mama McClain kicks them out with a swift bump of her hips. Keith palms a few of the tostones and discretely passes them off to the twins when he joins them in the living room, earning him an approving smile from the both of them.

Veronica calls Keith over to show off some pictures of her trip to the Bahamas. More non-moving pictures but they’re still pretty exciting. She needed to do some diving with the local merfolk there for some rare seaweeds and shells. For potion research. Had to fight off a barracuda that got a little nasty with her. Luckily, no one can see a wizard casting spells underwater.

What a family. Keith wishes he could stay here forever.

Eventually, they all fall into the sofa and chairs around the fire while Lance’s dad tells a story. It’s a family tradition to tell the Nativity scene. The twins craft another nice little illusion behind Mr. McClain as he tells it. To illustrate each part of the story. Keith’s heard it before but never quite like this. Reminds him of the ‘Beedle the Bard’ performances he used to see with his parents when he was a kid so he gives it his whole attention.

Lance leans on the couch arm with a cheek in his hand as he listens. The fingers of this other hand tap rhythmically on his cargo pants pocket. Right on top of his duolibri.

He never did get the chance to scribble out his poems. When he peeked at them in the bathroom a minute ago there were already hastily scribbled drawings around them. Hearts and a scribble of Lance swinging a bat. Hitting a ball for the stars. Mermaids and bubbles and gently swaying palm trees of an island paradise.

Can’t get rid of his poems now, he thinks with a smile. Lion likes them too much. That thought makes him smile fondly and let out a happy sigh. 

“Ay! It’s almost midnight!” Mrs. McClain announces interrupting the story. “Corazón! The gifts!”

“Gifts?” Keith raises a brow, confused. Christmas usually isn’t celebrated until the morning, right?

“Mom always gives out a single present to all her kids at midnight,” Veronica says, sitting up and smiling, eager for her present.

What a nice tradition. Sounds sweet. Keith watches as the portly woman returns with a handful of parcels. Her husband passes them out one by one to his children on the couches. The twins. Lance. Veronica. And then surprisingly one is laid out in Keith’s lap.

“Me?”

“You are one of my children for the holidays, remember hijo?” Lance’s mother says with a heartwarming smile. “It was a little rushed but I hope you like it.”

Keith looks at the tag with his name on it with a smile. He slowly pulls at the twine and wrapping paper until it reveals the scarf inside.

It’s long. A ribbed knit lengthwise with emerald green and silver stripes. The ends have alternating green and silver tassels. There’s even a little snake--or it could be an ‘S’--stitched into the bottom with black yarn.

It’s lovely but he has to wonder--

When he looks over, Lance is holding a scarf in his hand too. Brick red and gold, in thick horizontal stripes. The tassels at the end are the opposite color of whatever the last stripe is. There’s a big ‘G’ stitched into the last stripe confirming that it’s letters and not animals. He’s running his fingers through the tassels with a bittersweet smile on his face.

“I love it, Mom,” Lance tells her while still looking at it.

“Yeah, it’s great, Mrs. McClain,” Keith says and wraps the scarf around his neck to test its length. A little long. “Thanks.”

The others got scarves too. Two Hufflepuff scarves done in different styles. The twins switch them up a couple of times until deciding which one they like best. Veronica’s is a tight-knit cowl scarf in the classic Gryffindor red and gold. Made of wool, perfect for those little bouts of rain when she goes back to Ireland.

“Ay! All of you together on the couch now, with your scarves,” Lance’s mother commands, shooing them into the right spots. “For a picture. Shortest to tallest now. Lancito, you are not taller than Veronica. Move. Yes. Perfecto! Pan! Ciela! Vamos aqui! And Keith what is your little cat friend’s name?”

“Sumi,” he answers. “She won’t--”

“Suuuuumiiiii!” Lance calls with a sing-songy voice. “Wants some bacon treats from Uncle Lance?”

Keith snorts and rolls his eyes. That’ll never work.

Ciela enters quickly enough. Goes straight to the spot between Keith and Lance and coos with glee. Pan, unable to deny his favorite human, joins them but only at the far end of the couch with that ever-present scowl.

“Wish I’d brought Moira,” Veronica pouts and elaborates to Keith, the only one who doesn’t know who that is. “My purple pygmy puff. She loves getting her picture taken but Pan tried to eat her last year so I left her in Ireland.”

Moments later Sumi comes mewing and trilling her way down the steps. She climbs up the back of the sofa yowling and searching for the aforementioned food. Keith’s shocked she responded at all. She sniffs in Lance’s hair and looks into his lap for the goods but is perplexed to find them empty and decidedly not smelling of bacon.

“Kneazle cats are smart, right? Will she know what I mean by ‘you gotta earn your treats’?” Lance wonders.

Sumi drops into his lap with a displeased narrowing of her eyes. Gives him a look but begrudgingly takes her seat, the tip of her tail twitching with annoyance at this betrayal.

Oh, she definitely knows.

“Bien, bien!” Lance’s mother smiles. “Squeeze in more. Ay! Luis y Marco dejan de agitarse! Scoot more! Much better!”

They have to squeeze in especially tight since this year there’s an extra person but they manage. From left to right sits Marco and Luis with Pan glaring behind them. Then Keith and Lance. Ciela constantly switching shoulders because they’re so close and she doesn’t know where she wants to be more. Sumi eventually sits in Keith’s lap and looks directly at the camera with her tail swishing side to side. Last is Veronica, her arm hooked around Lance’s neck and leaning in.

All the kids together. Perfect.

“Put on your scarf, Lancito,” Mrs. McClain scolds. “Sometime tonight, hijo.”

“R-Right,” he says and drapes it over his neck loosely.

Mr. McClain hits the timer button on the camera which sits on a tripod. The two adults then hurry behind the couch and crouch down so they all fit. They remind them all to smile nice and big for the camera.

“You know how to do that right?” Lance teases as he elbows Keith. “It’s the opposite of what you usually do.”

“I know how to smile,” Keith frowns.

The twins begin the countdown when a little light blinks. Five--

“Better do it quick,” Lance hints.

Four--

“Shut up, you’re ruining my concentration,” Keith huffs, his cheeks getting red.

Three--

“Just do what I do,” Lance whispers. “Just pretend the camera is someone you love.”

Two--

Someone he loves...

One--FLASH!

The picture is taken and the family cheers like it’s a victory. Apparently, it’s hard to get everyone into the picture without a fuss on the first go. Pan takes off immediately and Sumi gets in Lance’s face to remind him of their deal. Practically sticks her nose into Lance’s mouth, yowling and making impatient trills. Lance stands to make good on their arrangement--her presence for food--and goes into the kitchen for snacks.

Keith wonders if the picture will be good. If he managed to smile in time. He’s not sure. Before he knew it the camera was flashing and it was over. He can only hope he didn’t ruin it with a blank stare or worse yet, a frown.

“Time for bed kids,” Mr. McClain tell them. “So Santa can put out presents,” he winks.

They all laugh a little at that. They’re way past believing that one but they all nod their heads and head to bed. Veronica gives them all hugs before she leaves for their aunt’s place. Even Keith gets an honorary family hug from her before she peaces out.

Lance and Keith take the stairs together, parting ways to their respective bedrooms for the night. Keith closes and locks the door before flopping onto the bed. He pulls out their notebook and opens to their most recent page with Lance’s poems on them. Looks like his drawings were enough to keep Lance from scratching out the limericks.

**You there, Lion?**

Keith smiles and starts writing.

 _Always_.  
**:) How was your day?  
** _Good. Did a little Christmas shopping._  
**Oh, man me too! Were you at Diagon Alley? Did you see me?  
** _I may have seen you in a store or two. Find everything you wanted?_  
**I got everyone on my list taken care of. Then went home for some family stuff.  
** _Did you have fun_?  
**Yeah, I guess.**

There’s a long pause before Lance writes back this time. The words come in slow.

**Lion, do you believe in predestination? Fate?**

Keith bites his lip inward and stares down at the words. All he can think about is Lance staring into his hand and rubbing the lines in his palm, a pain behind his eyes. Wondering if he really is cursed or if it’s just rotten luck. Scared that this thing he has with Lion is just another notch in the post of all his doomed-to-failure relationships.

 **Bet that sounds like a line doesn’t it? Haha.** **  
** **One of those ‘tell me your sign baby and let's see if we’re compatible’ things. ;)  
** _I don’t know. I never really worried about that kinda stuff before._

Lance sighs at Lion’s words and leans back against the wall. Wishes he could feel as carefree and unbothered by it but his track record has him freaking out a little bit. When he looks down more words from Lion make their way through.

_But now...I’d like to think I was meant to meet you, Lance._

“He does?” Lance asks himself, his heart fluttering. Makes his chest feel all tingly inside.

 **Why? Why do you think that?**  
_I don’t know. I try to imagine what things would be like without having known you and I just...I can’t._

Lance feels his stomach do somersaults and his face flush with heat.

 _I can do that with other things. Imagine how stuff might be different if I’d made a different choice. But I can’t do that when I think about us. It’s not a matter of ‘I don’t want to think it’, I literally can’t. It’s blank. Like that could never be an outcome._ _For fuck’s sake, I sound like an idiot._  
**No, no you don’t. Keep going.  
** _Look, I don’t know if destiny is real or not. Maybe it is a little? Like the beginnings? The spark that starts something? And the rest is just...whether or not we fan the flames too much or too little. Whether we keep the fire alive or let it die.  
_ _Fuck, I don’t know. No one does.  This is some pretty existential crap you’re hitting me with, Lance._

Lance snorts at that and rolls on the bed to look at the ceiling. Lots of potted plants hanging from macrame ropes with their long green tendrils drooping down. Lance taps one of the longer ones and it curls up, retracting away like a grindylow tentacle.

 **I like your spark and fire metaphor. It works for this.  
** _I’m just rambling. Trying to give you an answer for a question that no one has ever solved._  
**No, it kinda clicked for me. Puts me at ease. A little anyway. And part of me is wondering if you might have a little of ‘the sight’.  
** _I seriously doubt it_.  
**Look into the future Lion! Tell me all the things you see! ;) Test answers would be great.  
**_Don't I wish._

Lance sighs and brushes his fingers over the page. Lion always knows what to say to make him feel better. Another reason why he thinks this time will be different. Another reason to push forward.

 **Thanks for talking with me Lion.  
** _Anytime. I'm always here if you need me_.  
**That's sweet. :) Gotta drop off a few gifts at the tree.  
** _Night Lance._  
**Sweet dreams Lion <3**

Keith closes his book and listens to the sounds of the house. Lance’s door opens and he creeps his way down the creaky stairs with a handful of gifts to put under the tree. If anyone is awake they’re definitely hearing Lance doing his part of being Santa.

Keith doesn’t have to worry about dropping off his presents. With his extra cash, he paid the mail center to deliver all the gifts in the night. Their house elves will aparate into the home, drop them off, and promptly leave. All the gifts for Lance’s family should be there when they wake. He’s never been so excited at the prospect of Christmas morning.

It’s hard but Keith eventually ends up falling asleep with a content smile, his face buried in Lance’s pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	18. The World (Upright)

_“You will be more involved in your community or interests. You have a strong desire to contribute, to ‘give back’, or to use a special gift or talent to help make the world a better place. You are coming from a good place now of love, knowledge and experience and you are ready to share this with others.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

Lance wakes up bright and early Christmas morning. Had the alarm in his sister’s room set for sunrise. He hits the buzz within a millisecond and immediately throws his legs out from the bed. Opening the duolibri shows nothing new yet. Good. Means Lion is still asleep and he has time to write a little something.

He takes it to Veronica’s desk which has been cleared by the owner of the room. Splays the book out and pulls colored pens and pencils from the cracked coffee cup there. Pulls quills and ink vials from the drawers too. Then he claps his hands together and rubs them with anticipation before he dives into his work.

If all Lion wants for Christmas is for Lance to wish him Merry Christmas then he’s getting it. Lance style!

*****

Sweating again. Keith wakes with a groan. The only downside to this Cuba trip. Every time he wakes he’s slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his neck. Part of him can’t wait to get back to Hogwarts and throw himself into the nearest pile of snow.

But this morning there’s music to catch his attention. The crackling radio downstairs is on and playing jubilant tunes in Spanish. Sounds like a carol. That’s when Keith suddenly remembers what day it is.

Christmas!

Keith throws the sheet off to get dressed. When he opens the door to peer down the halls he’s met with even more warmth (how is that possible??) and...so many smells. He can’t even identify them all. Someone is cooking up a storm. Is he the last to get up?

“Lance, where’s the A/C buddy?” Mr. McClain calls up. “Your brothers ran to get Veronica.”

“I’m on it, just a sec,” he calls through a door.

Lance comes out of the bathroom cracking his neck and casting _glacius_ into the hall. He stops at a vent and practically jams his wand into it so that it’ll hit the rest of the house. There’s ‘thank yous’ coming from the first floor along with sighs of relief. Even Keith sighs a little wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry about that,” Lance yawns. “Normally I do it as soon as I get up. I got distracted.”

Keith looks at the hand he’s casting with and sees a number of ink stains he wasn’t able to wash off.

“You’ve got, uh,” Keith points to his hand and Lance looks at it with an aggravated groan.

“V makes her own inks with all her potion making. Colors are nice but I can’t get the shit to come out,” he grumbles but then relaxes with a shrug. A soft smile is quick to follow. “Ah, whatever. It’s worth it. I think I did a good job with it...and I think he’ll like it too.”

Him. He means Lion, doesn’t he? Was there something new in their book? That almost has Keith turning around to go back into the room. He hadn’t even thought to check first thing, too excited about seeing everyone getting their presents. Once the house is nice and chilly Lance pockets his wand into his waistband.

“Gonna change,” Lance says with another yawn. “See you downstairs.”

As soon as Lance closes the door Keith slips back into his borrowed room. Unwraps their book from the layers of shirt to flip to the last written page.

It’s full of splashes of vibrant color. Streaks of reds, greens, golds, and every color in between. A Christmas tree with baubles and garland and sparkling lights. It’s got brightly colored parcels with ribbons and heart-shaped snowflakes floating down from the top of the page. And in a font that almost looks like graffiti is a ‘Merry Christmas Lion!’

It’s very...Lance. He didn’t have to make him something like this but Keith’s glad he did. If he got nothing else for Christmas then this would suffice. On the next page, Keith quickly scribbles a note. A simple cursive Merry Christmas of his own along with a promise of a poem by tonight.

“Keith? Lancito? Are you coming to eat breakfast?” Mrs. McClain asks. “No presents until you eat! Vamanos mi hijos!”

He wraps it all back up and hurries down the stairs to join the rest of the McClain family before he’s treated a little too much like family and there ends up being a shoe with his name on it too.

*****

By the time Lance finishes changing he hears voices downstairs talking. His brothers are back but without V--she had to grab a few things but she’ll be right over.

There’s lots of excited conversation as they shrink and move furniture for breakfast. Thick slices of toast with a fried egg on top. A bowl full of melons, papaya, and mango slices up for grabs in the center of the table. Lance’s dad is pouring milk coffee for everyone who wants it. Those who don’t drink the horchata Mrs. McClain offers. Keith’s already digging in when he takes his seat.

“It’s good, right?” Lance grins and takes a sip of his coffee. Keith just nods and continues his meal.

“Did you know, Keith, that in Cuba typically the bigger celebration is on Christmas Eve and not Christmas?” one of the twins asks. Marco from the twinkle in his eye.

Keith shakes his head. He had no idea. Why didn’t they have a big party last night then?

“We switched it up when we got married,” Mr. McClain chuckles. “Big family gathering but on Christmas day instead. Like my family used to do.”

The emphasis on ‘used to’ leads Keith to believe Lance’s dad’s side of the family isn’t around any more. That or there aren’t enough of them for a big celebration. And to honor them, the families agreed to a new tradition. One that encapsulated them both. There’s something bittersweet about it.

“Your family do anything like that, Keith?” Luis asks.

“Yeah, what do you usually do for Christmas?” Marco adds.

“Do you get a tree too? And dancing?”

“Uh,” Keith hesitates, a little overwhelmed.

“Leave him alone, you two,” Lance says as he dips his toast in his coffee. “You don’t have to answer all their questions, Keith. They’re just nosy and don’t know when to quit.”

“No, it’s…” Keith puts his fork down and turns to face the twins. “My parents are separated. We haven’t had a Christmas together in eight years,” he tells them and they look a little glum to hear it.

“Aww that’s so sad,” Marco says with a frown.

“Not really. We never celebrated it much even when they were together,” Keith shrugs. “It’s not that big a holiday for us. A few gifts and stuff. The bigger deal was New Years.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance quirks a brow. “Weird. Why New Years?”

“We all lived in Japan back then,” Keith reveals. “New Years is when all the festivals start. Traditional foods. Cakes. Gifts. People visit temples, play games, and fly kites. There’s even fireworks.”

“Sounds kinda fun,” Luis smiles. “Could we come and see it next year? As a sophomore, you’ll have a longer break then. You can be our guide!”

“Uh…” Keith falters a little but gives half a smile. “I haven’t been in years but sure. I could show you around.”

“Great! You can translate for us!” Marco bounces in his chair with excitement. He turns to Mrs. McClain and chatters. “ _Mom, we can go, right? Please? Please? We’ve never been to Japan before! Bet it’s amazing!_ ”

“ _If your big brother or sister goes with you_ ,” she nods. “ _And only if you aren’t any trouble for Keith or his family_.”

“ _We won’t be!_ ” they promise in unison.

“ _Next year then_ ,” she chuckles and pours Keith a fresh glass of horchata. “ _For now, let's focus on this year_.”

With that they eat their breakfast. The twins scarf through theirs quickly and run for the other side of the room where the tree is. Mama McClain reminds them that they are not to open any presents until everyone else is in there. There’s a disappointed groan from the both of them but they begrudgingly agree to wait but not without cataloging the presents though.

Lance finishes his food next with Keith close on his heels. Then the parents. Mama McClain insists they just leave the dishes in the sink for now, that she’ll get to them later after presents. Keeping the twins waiting for much longer is going to drive them insane. They don’t officially start until Veronica comes waltzing in the front door with a handful of presents herself.

“Merry Christmas to Keith and my loving family,” she says and then snorts. “And also...to Lance, I guess.”

“Love you too,” Lance rolls his eyes with a smile. “I guess.”

“Woah, there are way more presents here than I thought there’d be,” Veronica blinks with surprise. “So who’s first?”

They sit down on the floor around the tree and unwrap presents one at a time. That way everyone gets to be the center of attention. The twins open a few gifts, mostly new clothes courtesy of their parents. Hand knitted socks. A couple of nice books and fancy candies. Keith gets a few presents too.

Veronica gives him a couple of experimental potions, all properly labeled. Hiccoughing potion. Blemish Blitzer. Wideye potion. Star Grass Salve. Vitamix potion. He’ll have to look up all their effects later in his potions textbook.  

The McClain parents give Keith a package of authentic Cuban coffee beans and a large bag of Mrs. McClain’s famous plantain chips to take back to Hogwarts with him. And he unwraps the nice set of seeker gloves from Lance, noting the red lining with a smirk. Red’s his color after all.

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith says as he tries them on. Perfect fit. Ooh, and cozy. “These are great.”

“I owed you,” Lance tells him and the two of them fist bump.

“Owed me?” Keith asks with a raised brow.

“For...being a good friend,” Lance dodges at the last moment, a hint of a blush from a particularly pleasant memory. “Yep. No other reason.”

That’s when they come to a section of presents no one recognizes.

“Who are these from?” Mrs. McClain wonders. “This one's for you two, Marco. Luis.”

The twins look excited about an additional present. They tear open the box and the contents have them shrieking.

“Muggle games! So retro!” Marco squeals as he pulls out the Gameboy. “Fresh batteries too!”

“There’s more cartridges, Marco!” Luis shouts as he pulls them out of the box. “Super Mario. Metroid. Zelda. There’s so many!”

“First dibs, I want to play Zelda,” Marco snatches a cartridge and pops it in.

“But where did…?” Mrs. McClain trails off as she looks at the other packages. She picks one up with her name on it. “Corazón? Did you--?” she asks but he shakes his head.

She tentatively opens her gift as the others watch. Inside there are adorable coffee mugs. A set of six, each one with different owls painted on them, including a Stygian just like Pan. And the other wrapped gift, a set of shiny silvered knitting needles. Mama McClain rolls them in her hands with an awestruck look.

“Que bonita,” she whispers. "Beautiful..."

“They’re enchanted,” Keith announces and everyone looks at him. “They...uh...they change color if a stitch gets dropped. And the cups change color based on the temperature of the drink...”

“Keith,” Lance stares, dumbfounded. “Did _you_ buy these?”

Everyone’s looking at him now with anticipation. Keith’s never felt so on the spot in his life and he’s illegally entered a dueling competition. He’s starting to wonder if he made a mistake. Should he have not bought anything? But he had all that money and--God damn it, he’s sweating and his stomach is unsettling.

“Y-Yeah, I thought...I mean,” he stammers a little. “You’ve all been so...you let me stay…I uh...”

“Oh Hijo,” Mrs. McClain smiles softly, her eyes shining. She puts the gift aside, toddles over, and embraces him in a warm hug.“You’ve done nothing wrong. This is so very kind. Gracias, Keith.”

He relaxes into the hug as she squeezes him. It’s a great relief to see the rest of the family smiling at him over her shoulder. Even Lance is grinning. After letting go she grabs his face and kisses his cheeks, both of them, with a happy smile.

The next one to open is Lance’s father. A fancy new radio. Should get better reception than the one they currently have in their living room. Even has a special setting so they can tune in to the Wizarding Wireless Network. Means they’ll be able to listen to Celestina Warbeck on The Witching Hour, even way out here. Good thing, Mrs. McClain is a big fan.

Veronica gets a set of never-break decanters and flasks for potion making from Keith. She can drop them from any height and they’ll never shatter. Of course, the first thing the twins do is snatch one from her hand and race up the stairs. They toss it down and everyone ooo’s and ahh’s when they come back down and pick up the unbroken bottle from the bottom stoop.

“This is great!” Veronica states, looking them over again. “I won’t have to worry about packing my kit so gingerly. Last time I broke a pheromone flask...had fire salamanders mating in my duffle for a month. Thanks, Keith.”

Lance looks down into his lap at the present from Keith. It’s still wrapped but not for long. Seeing the others with their gifts has him enthusiastically tearing into his. His eyes are the size of dinner plates when he unveils the contents.

“Holy shit...” he gapes.

“Lancito!” Mama McClain scolds.

“Sorry mom but you don’t understand!” Lance lifts the book and turns it to show them. “You know what this is?”

“A playbook? For Quidditch?” Veronica snorts and nudges Keith with a smirk. “He’s so easy to shop for.”

“This is the Holyhead Harpies Playbook! With Ginny Weasley’s original Chaser plays!” Lance exclaims with glee. He immediately cracks it open and flips through the pages, already lost in the scribbles and notes.

“Aaaaand...he’s gone,” Veronica snorts.

“These are wonderful gifts, Keith,” Mr. McClain says with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Wait! There’s one more!” Marco shouts.

“There’s a note on it,” Luis says and takes it to read aloud. “‘For the McClain family’...something for all of us?”

“Another gift, Keith?” Mama McClain asks and squishes his face between her hands again.

“It’s the last one,” Keith promises. “Other than some magazines.”

“You spoil us hijo,” she says, her voice bubbling with affection. “ _I want to keep this one, my heart. He is too sweet. Too precious._ ”

“I know dear,” Mr. McClain chuckles. “You want to keep all of Lance’s friends.”

The twins are the ones to open it. They tear the paper in strips. Unfurl the box and peer inside. That’s when they stop and look to one another, eyes wide and mouths open in shock. When they don’t say anything, Lance’s father takes the box and looks into it. His expression matches theirs but he, at least, reaches inside.

“Corazón?” Mama McClain inquires. “What is it?”

Lance glances up from his book for a second and his eyes catch on the object in his father’s hand. He drops the playbook in his lap. Veronica is staring too. They’ve all stopped whatever they were focused on to look at Keith’s final gift to them.

It’s a camera but not just any camera. Lance’s father turns it over in his hands to inspect it at all angles. It’s designed like an old-style Polaroid Land Camera 1000. Except the surfaces shine and the lens is crystal clear. There are runic symbols on the side to help prevent damage. And a maker’s crest on the bottom to indicate who charmed it.

A brand new wizard’s camera.

“I...always wanted to get one of these,” Mr. McClain says, his voice quiet. “When I was young, no one would sell me one. Not even a cheap one. What does a Squib need with magical artifacts anyway? Better to spend your coins on necessities...not luxuries.”

His thumbs rub the smooth edges as a smile forms on his face.

“I even had enough for one once. A nice one. Took me forever to save up for it,” he says looking at his kids. Seems like a story they haven’t heard before so they listen close. “But then I...fell in love with this heartbreaker who’s family hid mine during the war. Head over heels for her. I spent all I had on a wedding and starting my own family.”

The children and wife look at him with soft smiles of their own. Mrs. McClain scoots over and takes her husband’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as she kisses his cheek. The children huddle in close too, arms on each other's shoulders and smiling at one another.

Keith looks on the heartwarming scene and feels content, like he finally did something right.

“We should take a picture with it, right now,” Veronica says. “In front of the tree with our favorite presents.”

“We’ll get the tripod!” The twins say and run off to scour through the closet.

Lance glances over at Keith, a serious and considering look in his eye.

“Want a drink, Keith?” Lance asks and hints at the kitchen. Keith knows a signal when he sees one so he nods. “Me too, come on.”

“Don’t be gone long you two,” Mr. McClain calls out. “We all should be in the picture. Keith too.”

They understand and Lance leads the way to the kitchen. Once in there and out of sight Lance lets out a deep sigh. Before his face was so serious but now he’s got a soft smile on his face. And it’s directed at Keith and it makes his stomach jitter.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Lance says, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder. “My parents won’t ever forget this. I won’t either.”

“I had some spare cash and you said you guys didn’t have one,” Keith shrugs and tries look indifferent. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Lance disagrees. “I wish there was a better way to say it but…” Lance covers the distance between them with a single step and wraps his arms around Keith in a hug.

Even though Lance isn’t squeezing him tight, Keith seems to lose all the breath in his body. Little tingling jolts of electricity racing down his spine to his toes. Heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Then he smells that cologne and his cheeks start to warm.

Keith wants to hug back, wants to melt into those arms, because damn does this feel good. But he resists moving. Curbs the desire to bury his face in Lance’s neck. Combats the yearning to pull his body closer and sigh in his hold.

“Thanks, man,” Lance says, his voice wavering a little.

“You’re...welcome,” Keith breathes out. “Are you...crying?”

“No!” Lance denies as he lets go of Keith and wipes his face. “And if you tell anyone I was--I’ll take back my present.”

“Got it,” Keith half smiles. “Is that the reason you hugged me in here? So no one would see you cry?”

Pidge was right, he really is the most sensitive guy he’s ever met. One kind gesture has him emotional.

“Shut up,” Lance huffs, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I just didn’t want V to make fun. Anytime I even touch a guy she thinks I want to bone them. Giving you a hug in front of her--she wouldn’t shut up about it for the rest of our vacation.”

Lance pulls a paper towel off the roll and blows his nose in it real quick. Splashes his face with cold water from the sink and dabs it off with a hand towel. All better, Lance says. He grabs a root beer from the fridge and hands it off to Keith before grabbing one for himself to complete the illusion that they just came in for drinks. Then the two of them exit the kitchen to join the others.

“Ready for a picture?” Mr. McClain asks as he clicks the camera in place on the tripod.

They all crowd in in front of the tree. Once they click the camera it records them holding and showing off their gifts with beaming smiles. The twins with their games. Veronica with her new socks and decanters. Parents with their respective coffee cups and Lance with his playbook. Keith even shows off his new gloves front and back.

When the photograph develops the whole family looks on with excitement. Everyone moving and smiling.

They decide Lance should have it. Makes the most sense. He’s away the most right now and the rest of the family sees each other on the regular. He takes the picture and smiles as he looks over their happy faces. Even Keith looks like he’s having a good time in it.

When Lance looks up from the photo he looks on his family. His sister juggling her decanters and grinning as she lets them purposefully hit the ground. His father is already tuning the new radio and his mother taking her new cups to the kitchen to give them a good washing out before hanging them up on cup hooks. Then she gets started on the dirty dishes.

He sees the twins showing off their progress on the game to anyone who’ll look. Veronica. Ciela. And Keith who’s now watching, his face stern but focused on the screen. He’s making suggestions on what route to try next and Marco takes it. His character dies and they both frown.

“Try getting behind it with the sword,” Keith tells him and they try again. Both of them just as invested in the outcome. When it works out, Keith smirks with victory even though he’s not the one playing.

Finally. Keith almost seems like a normal guy now. Never would have expected him to be like this from how he was when they first met. And he seemed like such a selfish prick before. To see him giving out incredibly thoughtful gifts to people he just met a couple days ago...feels like Keith’s come a long way.

Extended family show up before they know it. Knocking on the door just before noon and people pour their way in. Veronica and Lance get on shrinking things and moving them out of the way. They set up a few chairs here and there but leave an open space in the center for dancing.

Aunts and Uncles come in carrying anything from snacks, to drinks, to small nephews and nieces. It’s barely noon when the house is full of people and music. Music from a brand new radio that is.

The whole family does some dancing as they celebrate the holidays. Veronica and Lance dance with their cousins, aunts, and uncles. The twins dance with nieces and nephews more on their height level. Lance’s parents dance with their parents and grandparents. And Keith simply stands aside. He watches them all as he claps in time with the music like some of the others do, leaning forward with curious interest.

He studies Lance’s feet mostly so he doesn’t get caught staring at his face. No bachata tonight. That would be a little weird to do a sensual dance with family, he guesses. But he notices little things about Lance’s steps. Like how he favors left side turnouts. Something he’ll remember for later.

Lance gets a lot of scolding from his older relatives, especially the married ones with children. Where’s this girlfriend you had? What happened? Did you scare away another potential bride Lancito? He doesn’t want to talk about it so instead, he sidesteps their conversations to dance with his cousins.

Keith’s being followed around by a group of children ranging from age four to six. From one side of the room to the other, they stay on his heels. He’s not sure what to do about it but Lance comes right in and scoops one up making her squeal. A quick twirl around in circles has her giggling hysterically before he puts her down.

“Sorry, it’s kinda the older kids jobs to keep them occupied,” Lance explains. “Hunk was here last time and carried three of them on his back. They probably think you’ll do that too.”

“Oh,” Keith nods in understanding. No wonder they kept looking at him so expectantly.

“You don’t have to,” Lance tells him.

“I wanna be tall!” one of the boys declares and stretches his hands up. “Uncle Lance!”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance chuckles and kneels. He hops up and wraps his little arms around neck as Lance hooks his arms under his knees for a little piggyback. “You good?”

“Sí, sí!”

“Tall too!” says the little girl, her eyes already welling up preemptively.

“Wait your turn,” the boy tells her and she looks ready to break down into tears.

Keith bends and picks her up, plopping her right down on his broad shoulders. She stops any thoughts of crying and beams with a grin. Her little hands reach for the ceiling which she can now reach. She gives the boy a haughty smile as she’s up higher than he is by virtue of a shoulder ride versus piggyback.

“Aww,” Lance snickers at Keith. “You’re a softy!”

“Shut up,” Keith huffs. “I’m...I just don’t like hearing kids cry. It’s annoying,” he insists. “Where to?”

“We’ll run around outside in the street a bit. There’s no room for it here,” Lance tells him and Keith follows him to the front door.

Still warm out but it’s darker than Keith thought it would be. Has the party really been going on for hours? He hardly noticed how quick it was all passing. The street is completely deserted. Everyone’s at home celebrating or sleeping off the hangover from their Christmas Eve party.

“The match will begin with Sylvio catching the quaffle as the ref throws it up,” Lance announces with excitement and presses an orange into the kid’s hand. “He’s been pretty quick this year and his accuracy on point! Will he bring victory to his team again this match too? Listen to that crowd!”

Lance and the little girl on Keith’s back make hushed noises reminiscent of a crowd of spectators. Keith snorts and joins in. Sylvio grins and says his ‘thank yous’.

“On the opposing team is the formidable Nadia,” Lance states and gestures to her. “The roughest toughest beater on this side of Varadero!”

Lance grabs a stick from the trash. While Sylvio hangs from his neck he snaps it in half and hands it off. Nadia takes it and swings it a couple times with a proud look. She puffs out her chest and beats it with her fist.

“She knocked three players off their brooms last match and with that no mercy attitude, does Sylvio stand a chance?” Lance asks with a wink.

“Nadia wins all times!” she declares.

“But will she be able to keep up with Sylvio’s speed? We’ll have to see, and fans at home you’ll just have to listen and hope,” Lance grins and takes off down the street. “The match begins!”

Keith’s quick to follow. It’s nothing like a real match of course. Not enough players, they’re on the ground, and they don’t have any of the equipment. But you couldn’t tell the kids that. They scream and shout and pretend to hit bludgers and score goals the whole time. And since no one is the seeker in this ragtag team, the match can never end.

Once the children and their mounts are exhausted from running, they return to the curb outside the McClain residence. Several family members are outside drinking and talking. One of them takes the boy from Lance’s back and thanks him for tiring him out. They’re probably going to head home a little early.

The girl on Keith’s shoulders is trying her hardest to keep her little eyes open but she’s drifting. Head nodding and very nearly face planting into Keith’s head. They know she’s out when she drops the stick in her hand and plops her face into Keith’s hair.

“I think she’s done,” Keith announces.

“Nice job,” Lance snickers and gestures for her. “If you don’t make a world class duelist...you can always make it as a babysitter.”

Keith rolls his eyes with a smile as Lance takes her down and carries her inside. He puts her into her mother’s hold, to which the girl just snuggles in. Too tired for anything other than smiling and sleeping.

“Shame. She’ll miss the fireworks,” Lance chuckles. He then gives Keith a bump at his shoulder. “They should be starting soon. Come on, I know the best seat in the house.”

The best seat in the house is actually outside the house. On the roof.

They have to climb out of a window to get there but after a little finagling, Lance manages to pull Keith up to the top. Keith carefully steps across and takes a seat next to Lance who’s looking up at the sky. Music still pours out of the windows and drifts up to reach them on their spot. They can even hear people chatting it up down there.

“Best spot,” Lance tells him, his arms behind his head as he lays down. “Kick back. Chill.”

Keith looks down on him lying there comfortably and smiles. Lance in his element, relaxing and taking it easy. He follows suit and leans back to look up at the sky. Nothing but stars for now but soon it’ll be full of color and sound.

“Thanks for coming to Cuba with me, Keith,” Lance says.

“Uh, sure,” Keith shrugs.

“Being here alone would have sucked,” Lance continues. “I know I’ll have to come clean to my parents eventually about Slytherin but I’m glad it won’t have to ruin Christmas. So, I really appreciate that.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Lance chuckles. “You know, if someone had told me the first day of school that we were going to be friends, I never would have believed them.”

“Me neither,” Keith admits.

Without warning the fireworks start shooting off into the sky. Lance looks at his watch and comments that they’re right on time. They streak into the sky and explode in vibrant colors amongst the stars. Reds, blues, greens, and golds. Flashes and sparkles and pops as the night fills with color.

Almost looks like the same colors as Lance’s Christmas drawing.

Lance points a finger at the sky whenever a single firework goes up on its own. Aims it like a gun and pretends to shoot just as it explodes. Ka-pow!

What a dope, Keith thinks but he smiles and gives it a try too. Aims up and snaps his finger right as a purple one explodes. This goes back and forth for a while until Keith points at one Lance is aiming at. He gauges the explosion better and ‘fires’ making it look like he stole the shot from Lance.

Suddenly now its a game of who’s getting the most shots interspersed with laughter. Keith gets one. Lance gets two. They keep score until suddenly it all stops. They’ve run out of fireworks to shoot.

“Ha! I won!” Lance grins. “Thirty-six to thirty-three!”

“I went easy on you,” Keith contends.

“Oh, is that right?” Lance snorts. “Then I guess we’ll have to have a proper rematch.”

“A duel?” Keith questions as he perks up a little.

“Why not?” Lance smirks. “When we get back. You, me, and a couple of witnesses. Loser cleans the Quidditch brooms for a week?”

“Deal.”

Lance extends a hand to shake on it and Keith immediately takes it with a haughty look. When done they fall back onto the roof to look up at the stars. It’s getting quiet downstairs. People are leaving and the music is turned down to a more reasonable volume for being after midnight. But the party's still going. Lance assures him it will be for another several hours.

A shame Lion isn’t here, Lance thinks. He’d probably have loved some stargazing.

A glance over a Keith shows he’s having a good time too. Soft eyes on the stars and the smallest of smiles on his face. Thinking about someone special maybe? Just like Lance was doing? Lance turns his gaze back to the sky and raises his hand to look at his palm.

Broken heart lines...but maybe not for much longer?

“You ever been in love, Keith?” Lance asks, his tone serious.

“Uh…” Keith hesitates.

“I’ve been in love so many times...I stopped keeping count,” Lance reveals with a tired sigh. “So? Ever been in love?”

Be calm. Be cool. Just relax. Thank god for meditation.

“I guess,” Keith mumbles, turning his face away as pink flushes his cheeks. “I’m...I think I’m in love with someone now.”

“Yeah? For how long?” Lance asks tilting his head.

“Uh...a while now,” Keith admits. “He’s...everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

This is a hundred times easier if he pretends he’s talking about someone else and not the person right next to him. Kinda nice to talk to someone about Lance. He hasn’t bothered confiding in anyone about it around school. Not even Shiro. But it’s still a little nerve-wracking to talk about. His pulse is already a little quicker than it was a minute ago.

“Oh yeah?” Lance grins and rolls onto his side. “Gossip time. It’s about time you opened up. Tell me about him.”

Keith knows he should decline. Should say it’s too personal and that he’d rather not. Because what if he says too much? Or says something that gives himself away? But that look of excitement on Lance’s face at the prospect of bonding with his friend over boy gossip…

“He’s...smart,” Keith mumbles while biting his lip a little. “Clever, too.”

Lance gestures him to keep going.

He wants more? That wasn’t enough? How much gossip is the appropriate amount of gossip? Keith doesn’t know as he’s never done this before. He swallows and averts his eyes as he adds more.

“He’s got...the best smile,” Keith says and feels himself sigh. “And...blue eyes.”

“Do you like the way his ass looks in jeans?” Lance asks with a devious grin.

A callback to their first conversation about Keith’s mystery guy. Keith’s attempts to keep from turning red have been obliterated with the image of Lance dancing at the club the other night. Tight jeans on his gyrating hips brought to the forefront of his mind. He turns red as a phoenix and covers the shame on his face with a hand. Lance just cackles to himself, smacking the roof with hilarity.

“Y-Yeah...I do,” Keith admits from behind his hand.

“Ooooo!”

“But I...I like his laugh more,” Keith swallows. “Makes me feel like laughing too.”

“Sounds nice,” Lance tells him. “Alright, my turn,” he says as he sits up and pulls out his duolibri. “Know what this is?”

Of course he does but…

“A journal,” Keith answers. “From your boyfriend?”

“It’s a duolibri and shit, you just reminded me. I still need to ask him if it’s cool that I call him that,” Lance says as he turns the pages. “Anyway. He got it for me,” Lance smiles fondly. “Other than the playbook you gave me--thanks by the way, it’s awesome--it’s probably the nicest thing I’ve ever owned. Here, look.”

Lance opens it up between them and flips to his favorite pages. Usually poems with the occasional artistic rendition of Lance. Keith’s seen them all before, of course, but he looks at the pages as Lance goes. Watches his fingers brush the words as he extolls all the virtues of Lion.

It’s wonderful seeing Lance like this. Usually, Keith can only imagine the kinds of faces he might make while reading their book. Now he can see the soft smile and lidded eyes. The way he licks his finger before gently turning a page. His sigh as he shows off yet another poem.

“So what do you think?” Lance asks when they reach the end.

“He’s uh...a decent artist?” Keith tries.

Feels weird complimenting himself which is funny. He has no trouble bragging when it comes to dueling. Guess...he’s never had that much pride in his art or writing.

“Decent?” Lance blinks then snorts out laughter. “Man, what have you got against complimenting people?”

“What? I said he was decent,” Keith frowns.

“I guess coming from you that is a compliment,” Lance chuckles as he closes the book. He rubs his thumbs on the outside cover with a sigh. “We’ve filled up half this book already. It’s barely been two months.”

“What will you do when it’s full?” Keith asks, genuinely curious.

“I hope...we won’t need it then,” Lance says with a smile and puts the book in his pocket again. “That we’ll be talking face to face.”

“And if you’re not?” Keith implies.

“Then I better start taking more tutoring jobs and saving money now,” Lance jokes. “Hell if I’m letting him buy the next one.”

Keith feels himself smile at that. Seeing how dedicated he is to Lion makes a lot of that worry melt away.

It’s getting late and Keith still wants to hit the shower before bed. Lance agrees. They smell like tamales and as delicious as they are he’d rather go to bed smelling like a human being. They help each other get back inside the house to ready for bed.

Since Keith’s fast with his showers, Lance insists he go first. Takes him no time before he’s out. He finds Lance casting _glacius_ into the vents again before bed so that, hopefully, everyone will be able to get through the night without losing twenty pounds in sweat. Keith greatly appreciates it.

As he passes him in the hall, Lance mentions that they should hit the beach again tomorrow but with Mateo and the others. No objections from Keith. He likes Lance’s friends. And he likes the idea of having another chance to talk to Mateo about Lance. Discreetly of course. After that, Lance heads into the bathroom for his own shower.

While he’s taking his time scrubbing up, Keith drops into Lance’s bed and readies his inks. He has a plan for Lance’s Christmas present and with how long he takes to wash, he’ll probably finish with plenty of time to spare.

*****

Lance towels off his head as he exits the steamy bathroom. House is still a little noisy. This party usually goes for quite a while, sometimes until early morning. And now he’s noticing there’s light still pouring out from under Keith’s door. Christmas excitement must be keeping him up too.

“Knock knock,” Lance says through the door.

“Wh-What?”

“If the noise gets to be too much I know a muffling charm,” Lance tells him. “Just let me know.”

“Got it,” Keith answers. “Night.”

“Night.”

When Lance goes to his room he takes a seat on the bed and opens his duolibri. The most recent page is currently being drawn on so Lance lays it down and watches with soft eyes as Lion works.

Looks like an ornate door frame bordered with streaming ribbons. It takes up the whole page, leaving a blank space only in the center. At the top of the frame, Lion’s drawing something new. An ornament. No wait, a plant.

“Ah!” Lance snaps. “Mistletoe. Cute.”

Once it’s all drawn in, Lion begins adding color. Amber to the frame, crimson to the ribbons, and green for the mistletoe. A few drawn in sparkles are added and some kind of spell to make them grow and shrink to give them some action. But then the best part appears in the center, scrawled out in Lion’s perfect cursive.

 _It’s Christmas at last_  
_Under the mistletoe sprig_  
_I dream of your kiss._

 _Merry Christmas Lance  
_ _Love, Lion_

Lance’s heart nearly pops in his chest. Love. He practically swoons as he hugs the book to himself with a giddy giggle. Christ, he hasn’t giggled like this since he was a toddler. This is what Lion does to him. 

 **Thank you Lion. ~~This is~~ You’re amazing  
** _It’s just a poem, Lance.  
_ **It’s more than that.**

Lance sits up with the book in his lap, his body tensing up with what he’s about to do.

 **I have a question to ask you. Don’t worry, it’s not another existential one about fate.  
** _Haha._  
**There’s a RoR party coming up. The Slytherin one. It’s a masquerade.  
** _Sounds like your kind of party._  
**I was thinking...I’d be honored if you’d go with me. As my date.**

The pause is long again. Waiting like this makes Lance’s hands sweat with nerves but he knows Lion’s anxiety is far worse than his. Is he freaking out? Trying to figure out what to say? Lance hopes he isn’t asking too much of Lion to do this. To brave his fears to see him.

_I’m not very good at parties._

Lance closes his eyes with a disappointed sigh. It was a long shot after all.

 **It’s cool. I get it. Don’t stress about--  
** _I didn’t say I wouldn’t go, Lance._

Lance’s breath catches in his throat.

 **Then?  
** _I want to meet you too.  
_ _I’ll be there. I promise._

“Holy shit. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT!” Lance repeats his voice getting louder as he gets to his feet.

He can’t believe what he’s seeing. Lance always hoped Lion would say yes but he didn’t think he actually would! But there, right there, he’s written it. Said he _wants_ to meet. That he _will_ be there. He _promises_.

Lance’s heart is pumping a million times a minute. He’s lighter than air. Hell, his face is going to crack from how big he’s smiling. He’s stoked out of his mind. How’s he going to sleep tonight? No, he can't sleep! He's gotta _do_ something! Gotta tell someone, like, right now!

*****

Someone’s banging on the door and Keith’s sure it’s Lance. He guessed he was really excited from the shouting earlier. It’s really no surprise that he wants to talk about it. Luckily, the door’s locked. Keith's already put away his big inks so all he has is his book in his lap with a pen he found on Lance's floor.

“Keith, you up? You gotta hear this! "

"Yeah, just a sec."

"Did you lock the door to my room? Seriously?” Lance gripes and starts casting. “ _Alohomora_!”

Keith’s eyes go wide and with barely enough time to deliberate he shoves his duolibri into the pillowcase. The door unlocks and opens just as Keith retracts his hand from the pillow. Lance, without putting on the brakes at all, rushes into the room and leaps onto the bed sending Keith several inches into the air as he bounces. Lance has his duolibri clutched in his hands with the biggest smile on his face.

“He’s going to come to the masquerade! I’m finally going to meet him!” Lance exclaims.

Keith blinks and nods. “Okay,” he says. “Congrats?”

“Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret?” Lance asks, his face suddenly serious as he puts the book down on the bed. Keith nods with a stoic face. “I’m serious Keith; if you tell anyone I won’t ever talk to you again. I mean it.”

“I won’t say anything, Lance,” Keith assures him.

“I…” Lance swallows and bites his bottom lip with a weak smile. “I’m actually nervous. Ha! Imagine that. Me, nervous!”

“Why?” Keith asks and Lance massages his palm with his thumb as he averts his gaze. There’s that somber look again. “That palmistry stuff?” he guesses.

Lance shifts on the bed until his back is to the wall and he’s shoulder to shoulder with Keith. He brings his knees up and rests his arms on them while looking at the ceiling.

“Yeah, a little,” Lance admits. “Look. I know I’m not actually cursed. I’ve had people look into it,” he sighs and scratches the back of his head, rubbing the hairs on the nape of his neck. “But...I still don’t want this to end up like the others.”

So much for saying it all was hokum. Lance does believe it, it’s why he’s so sensitive about it. Why he fought with his sister. All those claims otherwise...just denial to protect himself.

He hates seeing Lance like this. Without a smile and worry furrowing his brow. Just like on the train when he was sleeping. He wants to brush his bangs aside and pet his head to comfort him but knows he shouldn’t. The most he can do is...talk to him. Keith wishes he could give him more than words to ease that look of turmoil.

“Maybe it’ll be different,” Keith tries to reassure him.

“I...really hope so,” Lance says. “Something is supposed to happen. Something significant, according to Nan. After that, my heart...will open to a real connection.”

Lance sighs and Keith just waits for him to continue.

“I just...wonder if that ‘something’ has happened already or if it hasn’t. And if it hasn’t--is it a bad something? Or a good something? I can’t know and for the first time...I’m actually scared of something going wrong.”

Keith isn’t sure what to do here. What do you do when your friend confides their fears to you? The last time he was scared enough to confide in anyone Keith spoke to his parents. Oh! His dad always had a good technique for this.

“What’s the worst that can happen? The literal worst?” Keith asks.

“Hmm...he doesn’t show up, I guess. Or he does and tells me he never wants to see my handsome face again,” Lance says and then groans as he plops his face in his hands. “You’re a terrible hype man, Keith.”

“Uh, alright. And the best case scenario?” Keith continues.

“Best?”

“Yeah, if all the best things happen, no matter how unrealistic, how would that go?” he explains.

Lance blinks for a moment in thought, like he does when he’s on the field. His thinking face when he’s running plays in his head. Suddenly, he gives off a goofy lovestruck smile that has Keith’s heart thrumming. Lance closes his eyes and sighs.

“The best, huh? Well...he’s _amazing_ and dances with me all night,” Lance starts, his cheeks flushing. “He’s smoking hot. He kisses like an angel and a devil at the same time. His voice kills me and brings me back to life like a phoenix. He’s sweet and has a shy smile that makes me weak.”

Wow. Lance has a lot of interesting thoughts about Lion.

“But he’s feisty and a rule breaker too. We leave early and he asks me to sneak him into the Slytherin common room. And, of course, I do it because it’s thrilling and fun and I can’t possibly tell him no,” Lance chuckles. “I introduce him to the selkies and they love him. We listen through the glass to the song of the lake and he looks...perfect in the light of the green lamps.”

Lance’s soft smile then turns to a slightly more impish one.

“I show him my room and we hop on the bed for some heavy petting because we can’t keep our hands off each other and no one will be back for _hours_. And then--”

“Okay, well,” Keith interrupts with a cough and Lance shrugs with a sheepish smile in apology. “Shoot for something in between those two extremes. And that’s probably more likely what will happen.”

Lance gives off that calculating look again. Running new plays before nodding.

“Smoking hot angel who dances with me _half_ the night,” Lance begins. “When he’s too tired for another song I offer to walk him back to his tower. We walk and talk, hand in hand. We reach the portrait and I give him a goodnight kiss,” he says, his voice soft and affectionate. “And if he had fun...we can schedule another date without the masks. If he wants.”

Keith has to admit that sounds pretty good. A little dancing. A romantic walk with a kiss to end the night. And there’s no pressure for him to reveal his face before he’s ready. Lance really knows how to read him.

“Sounds like a healthy middle,” Keith tells him. "Shoot for that."

“Yeah. Yeah, I like that,” Lance says, his smile returning in full force. “A nice chill night. He’d like that. He’s got some serious anxiety and that’ll make him feel loads better,” he nods with certainty. “I take it back, you’re a great hype man.”

“Thanks?”

“Anyway, sorry for busting in here. I just--I’m so excited! I should start coordinating my outfit for our first date,” Lance grins with enthusiasm. “See you in the morning, Keith. We’ll hit the beach. And thanks again!”

Lance gives him a side hug, pressing his cheek into touching Keith’s. Before Keith can react at all, Lance is jumping off the bed and running out of the room. Keith then palms his cheek. Still warm, he thinks as a smile curls on his face.

And to think, this time in a week and a half...he’ll feel that warmth again on the dancefloor. Keith sighs breathlessly and stands from the bed. He closes the door, locks it again, and returns to his duolibri for another hour of chatting before the both of them fall asleep with their faces buried in their books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Give it a kudos! Really like it? Leave a comment or rec it to a friend!  
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> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	19. The Tower (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr Artist Leadernovaandthemacabre has created an AMAZING piece of art inspired by this chapter! Check out the link in the End Notes!**

_“A lightning bolt of clarity and insight cuts through the lies and illusions that you have been telling yourself [and others]; and now the truth is revealed. Your world may come crashing down before you, in ways that you could never have imagined as you start to realise that you have been building your life on unstable foundations.”   ---Biddy Tarot_

 

The rest of the Christmas vacation goes entirely too fast for Keith’s comfort but he holds fast to his favorite parts. Wants to make sure he keeps the memories fresh for revisiting later. The day after Christmas is his favorite of them all.

He goes to the beach with Lance and his friends like they said they would but this time, after slathering a healthy amount of sunscreen, Keith decides to join them in a game of volleyball. The rules seem simple enough to understand. How hard could it be?

Lance’s team with Mateo and Gordito dominate for a good portion of the match. Keith likes to think it’s not because he’s new to the game but because Luca is too busy staring at his ass to focus on the ball. This certainty is proven when the guy takes a hard hit to the face via Mateo’s spike. Poor Luca has to spend a minute out of the match treating his bleeding nose but he’s feeling no pain. Keith catches him say ‘worth it’ under his breath with a goofy grin.

They do a team switch up at one point at Mateo’s insistence. Lance, Keith, and Mateo versus Juan, Gordito, and Luca. Seems like a good match up because the score stays relatively the same throughout the day. Keith delivering the ball to Lance or Mateo who then slams it into the sand on the other side of the net.

No winners or losers as the only one keeping score is Lance. Not to rub it in or anything. Says he rarely cares about the outcome when playing with friends. He just likes keeping track of his numbers so he can tell if he’s improving or not.

At the end of their game they go for a dip into the ocean. Lance and Luca go diving for shells. Gordito and Juan just lay back and float on the surface, content to just relax. Mateo and Keith kick around in the shallows, chatting. About Lance of course.

“ _Lancito seems head over heels for someone already_ ,” Mateo tells him when they have a little distance from the others. “ _How will you fare against them?_ ”

Keith snorts a little. He’s not really concerned about that, considering the person Lance is pining for is none other than Keith. The last thing he’s worried about is Lance falling for another someone else. Mateo chuckles at this information, shaking his head with a laugh.

“ _How thrilling! Like a telenovela! Lancito loves those_ ,” he chuckles. “ _So you are his Guinevere. But he doesn’t know? You are planning on telling him soon, I hope?_ ” Mateo guesses.

“ _After the party,_ ” Keith nods. “ _If things go well.”_

“ _I look forward to your next visit to Cuba then, hopefully as Lancito’s paramour_ ,” Mateo winks at him.

Keith flushes a little at the word paramour. The word Mateo actually uses is ‘inamorato’ which is more akin to ‘lover’ than anything else. The connotations of such a word have Keith sinking himself into the water to hide his red face while Mateo laughs and laughs.

It’s afternoon before he knows it. The lot of them pile into the bus for a ride back to Lance’s home. Keith’s shocked when they all get invited inside for a couple of drinks but then remembers that the McClain home is mostly non-magical. No moving pictures. No strange contraptions. The only magical thing Keith can think of is the fridge with it’s extending charm which the muggles never have to go near as Lance always offers to get their drinks for them.

Ciela joins the lot of them on top of the curtain rod and all the guys seem to know her. They whistle and catcall to her. They tell her what a pretty girl she is and to give them ‘besos’. Kisses. She shyly giggles and flies to them all, relishing in the attention they give her. But she always returns to Lance, clicking and fluffing up with excitement on his shoulder.

Sumi makes an appearance and the guys are surprised. When did the McClain’s get a cat? Keith reveals that she’s his, then covers for why she’s here by saying he couldn’t get someone to watch her over the holidays. Sumi doesn’t allow any of them to touch her and stays next to Keith or Lance, watching everything closely.

They joke and talk and snack as they listen to a soccer game on the radio for a good half hour. Then Mrs. McClain is shooing them all out. She has dinner to cook and she’s certain their own mothers are waiting for them. And any boy who keeps their mother waiting is just asking for a chancla sandwich. That hurries them along quick enough, with Juan covering the back of his head as he runs down the street.

A perfect dinner made by Lance’s wonderful mother. More cultural discussions between the twins and Keith. After their meal, Mr. McClain turns on the new radio and dances with his wife while the twins clean dishes.

Keith and Lance hang out on the couch. Keith plays a little with Ciela, making her step up and gesturing her to different spots in the room and giving her treats when she succeeds. Lance sits next to him scouring over his new playbook. On occasion he leans over to share some of the interesting plays he finds in his playbook, asking Keith whether they should try them or not. They’ll have a game the second day they’re back so they need to be prepared.

They head to bed after Celestina Warbeck’s ‘You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me’ at Lance’s parents’ insistence. Keith had already fallen asleep on the arm of the couch with a parrot nesting in his hair. And Lance was starting to drool and nod off right into his book. Together they climb the stairs, barely mumble out a ‘good night’ before falling face first into their beds, completely drained from their day of fun.

Another perfect day in paradise in Keith’s book but all good things must come to an end.

The rest of the days in Cuba melt together in a series of walks, bike rides, soccer, and beach trips. All of which have the two of them getting closer and closer, becoming better and better friends. At the end of each day Keith falls into bed, pleasantly exhausted but not so much that he can’t exchange a few flirty words with Lance in their duolibri before konking out.

Before he knows it they’re packing away their things and heading to the train return to Hogwarts.

Feels surreal to be enveloped in cold weather, cold stones, and smoke from the different trains. Surrounded by nothing but witches and wizards and owls swooping low with their letters and parcels. The air itself feels charged with energy, that residual edge of magic in everything they touch.

Time to head back to the wizarding world.

Both of the McClain parents look very disappointed to see them go. Especially Lance’s mother who had grown so used to them being there she won’t let them go from their hugs at the boarding platform. Keith feels bad. He doesn’t want to let go either since he’s become very fond of her.

“Mi hijos,” she whispers, her lip trembling a little with emotion as she clutches them tight to her bosom.

“Dear, they’ll miss the train,” Mr. McClain chuckles but his eyes are misty too.

“Sí, yes. Of course. Can’t have that,” she says with a cough, clearing her throat and finally releasing them. With her motherly hands she adjusts their clothes. Fixes Keith’s Slytherin scarf with a hum. “Stay warm. Don’t catch cold. Lancito, study hard in Potions.”

“I will Mom, jeez,” Lance huffs and swats her hand when she tries to fix his tie. “ _It’s fine. Stop. You’re embarrassing me._ ”

“Keith, hijo. You’ll help him study, sí? Lancito is very bad at Potions,” she tells him.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m bad? You should see him in Charms!” Lance points, mildly offended. “I saw him blow up a pot when he was supposed to shrink it! Those incantations aren’t even close to similar!”

Both of them ignore his statements while Lance’s father comes forward with his hugs too. He gives them both a big squeeze, telling Keith thank you again for his Christmas presents. Once his marigolds come in, he’ll be sure to send some to brighten up his dorm. Keith tells him not to worry about it but he insists he will. With a pat on both their heads he lets the two of them go before he ends up crying too.

The twins give Lance a hug around the middle and shake Keith’s hands vigorously. It was nice to meet him, they say. And they can’t wait for next year. Already they’re planning for all the things they want to do in Japan. They’re even going to study the language. Keith just nods and says he’s looking forward to it.

“Prisa! Prisa!” Ciela chirps in her cage. They need to get a move on. The train will be leaving soon and a whistle blows to prove it.

“Where’s Sumi?” Lance asks, looking on Keith’s rolling trunk. No cat in sight.

“She’s on the train already,” Keith nods at the platform. “Like we should be.”

“Alright, time to go then,” Lance announces. “Love you mom, dad. Marco, Luis. I’ll send you a letter in a week.”

“Be good mi hijos,” Mrs. McClain tells them as she waves. “No trouble making, sí?”

“Us? Cause trouble?” Lance smirks and elbows Keith. He returns the look with a smirk of his own. “We’re the nicest guys at Hogwarts...right?” he asks, his fist up for a bump.

“Right,” Keith agrees and bumps knuckles with him.

*****

Lance crashes hard into the opposing teams beater, his elbow clocking the guy in the jaw. Whether it was on purpose or not isn’t up for debate, mostly because it’s blatantly obvious; Lance’s body slam was entirely intentional and worked better than he could have hoped. He nearly knocked the Slytherin House team beater clear off his broom but best of all his bat fell to the field below. Now he’s gotta reseat himself _and_ retrieve his bat.

“Go, go!” Lance signals to his Chasers take the ball while the opposition is down on their offense.

“I’m going to wring your neck, McClain!” the beater growls as he pulls himself back up onto his broom.

“Get in line, Henderson,” Lance smirks and takes off.

Being back at Hogwarts feels so strange.

The place feels like a foreign country to Keith even though he was only gone a week. The cold frosting the windows and the smell of stone hallways...so different from the McClain home which not only felt warm but smelled it too. And getting used to simple breakfasts is another thing--the McClain family spoiled him with their delicious food.  

Lance seemed to drop back into his routine easily enough but not Keith. Got so used to sleeping in an extra hour that it made him late for his first class on the first day. A bad thing considering McGonagall is the biggest stickler for punctuality in the entire school. Luckily, his punishment has only been writing lines and not getting turned into something...unnatural.

But playing Quidditch again has him finally feeling like he’s back. Hard to keep focused though since the masquerade is literally in five days time. It must be clear that Keith’s head isn’t all there because he needs constant reminders to play attention during the match.

“Heads up!” Lance shouts as a bludger heads directly to Keith.

Allura intercepts and strikes it hard with both hands on the bat. Not a common technique since one loses hold of the broom but it looks like Allura might have been practicing this move over the break with her muggle baseball friends. She has no trouble at all staying stabilized and sending that ball flying across the field--right into the Slytherin captain’s broom.

“Nice shot!”

“Thank you,” Allura smiles.

“Keith, any sign?” Lance asks as he zooms by.

“Not yet!” he shouts back.

Keith needs to pull himself together. Or they’re gonna end up losing their first game back. Not a good start. He refocuses and scans the field again looking for that glimmer of gold.

The Slytherin House team adjusts their formation once they get a hand on the quaffle again. A ‘V’ pattern by the looks of it. They’re gonna try to push their way through their defenses and use their numbers to confuse Hunk on what goal they’re going for.

Lance puts his fingers between his lips and lets out a shrill whistle. It can be heard clear across the pitch. Hunk hears the signal and readies himself to dart for a specific goal to block. Just needs Lance’s signal. The opposing captain favors the left side so that’s what Lance gestures with his hand.

The right call. Hunk has more than enough time to protect the goal and knock the quaffle into Serena’s hold. The Gryffindor cackles and takes it down the field with Marcel at her side. The Slytherin House captain lets out an annoyed groan at the loss and signals a new play.

“You’re so predictable!” Lance snickers as he whooshes by.

“Bite that tongue or I’ll rip it out McClain!” she threatens. “When I get my hands on you--”

“Don’t you mean ‘if’?” Lance grins as he takes off. “Gotta catch me first, Norma!”

What a cheeky little shit, Keith smirks. Kinda proud of him though. Those are the kinds of things Keith does before a dueling match to psych someone out. And it's working. The opposing team doesn’t seem to have everything together.

Good news for the Paladins.

“Keith! Status!” Serena checks in.

“No sign--wait,” Keith narrows his eyes. Was that gold? Or something flashing in the stands? “A possible.”

“I’ll clear your path,” Morgan says, rolling her shoulder and readying her bat.

“No, you’re better off defending the goals,” Keith shakes his head. “I’ll go low.”

“But--”

“Stay on the goals!”

Going low is more dangerous but he’ll get there faster. And fast is all that matters when you’re a Seeker. He gives Lance the signal whistle to let him know he’s going for a possible. Lance returns it with a whistle of his own but he’s too busy to assist.

Keith grips tight with his new gloves and dives in a low swooping arc. Body close to the broom and shoulders in. Less surface area means less resistance means top-notch speeds. The other team’s Seeker sees him and starts scanning the area in which he’s heading. Doesn’t seem to spot anything.

Then a bludger almost nails Keith. Barely a hair’s breadth away from kissing his nose. Nearly loses his balance on the broom as he pulls to a stop to find out where it came from. Looking up shows the enemy beater, more than a little ticked off that he missed Keith. But his grumpy face isn’t what has Keith’s eye.

A glint of fluttering gold behind his ear.

Keith goes vertical and takes off, directly for the opposing beater. The player’s eyes go wide when he thinks Keith’s going to ram him right off his broom in revenge. And when Keith raises a hand off his broom the guy pales, certain that fist is coming for his face.

He almost wishes the guy had dropped a little altitude from his spot. Would have made this easier but then it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying when Keith’s knee connects hard with his shoulder. Keith immediately reaches out for the snitch behind his ear as they clash. Just as his fingers start to close around it he feels a sudden sharp pain in the back of his head and it all goes black.

*****

Smells like grass. And sweat. It’s dark he thinks. Night? When he flutters his lids open with a groan he sees why. He’s surrounded by people blocking out the sun. Several very blurry people.

“Keith, you alright?” asks a voice. Sounds vaguely like Hunk.

“It...doubled back, didn’t it?” Keith grumbles, his head throbbing.

“Sure did,” says a Slytherin team member. “That bludger nailed you. You had no cover.”

“The snitch!” Keith exclaims and tries sitting up but groans in agony. He resolves to stay on the ground a little longer.

“You Gryffindors,” snorts another house team member. “You could have a concussion but all you care about is winning. You were knocked clear off your broom. You could have died, dumbass.”

“Did I get it? The snitch?” Keith blinks, things getting a little clearer.

“Yeah,” Serena nods. “Thanks for winning the match.”

“Who caught me?”

“Lance did,” Pidge tells him. “The beater you clocked tried for it but he lost his grip. You dislocated his shoulder so he couldn’t hold you long.”

“Where’s…” Keith starts but groans mid sentence. His eyes scan faces but can’t find the one he’s looking for. “...the captain?”

“He’s chewing out Morgan,” Serena says. “She’s supposed to cover you when you go for the gold.”

“I...told her to watch the goals,” Keith sighs.

Can’t let her get in trouble for his dumb call so he forces himself up. A mistake.

His vision swims and swirls. Feels queasy like he’s going to--Keith hunches over and immediately vomits in the grass. Allura goes to her knees and rubs his back as he hurls. She casts some kind of anti-nausea spell over him and it seems to help but his head is still splitting with pain.

“Yeah, shouldn’t have done that,” Serena grimaces. “Pomfrey’s assistant is heading out here to see if you cracked your skull. So uh...don’t move anymore.”

Keith understands but doesn’t want to lay back down. He stays sitting up and looks around for the last members of his team.

Lance is over to the side like Serena said he was, talking with Morgan. He’d hardly call it chewing out as Lance has a supportive hand on her shoulder, talking calmly and explaining how important it is to follow protocol. Lance never yells if he can help it. She’s just nodding, contrite look on her face.

“Here, drink some water Keith,” Pidge says pouring out a cup from her thermos.

He drinks and it helps get that vomit taste out of his mouth. By the time he drains the cup Lance is heading over with Morgan. She apologizes for not covering him. He tells her it’s fine. Lance assures them it’s not. Part of being on a team is taking care of your teammates. Even if they’re too stubborn to follow procedure.

The others clear the way once the nurse arrives with the coach. That ever sour look sits on the woman’s face as she casts a spell to look through his skin for broken bones. She finds a small fracture and thankfully it can easily be repaired with a potion she brought with her. It’s disgusting and Keith nearly retches after he gets it down.

“How long...until it’s healed?” Keith asks her as she’s packing up her things.

A few days she tells him. What a relief. He’d hate to go to the masquerade in pieces and then have a bout of nausea make him leave early. Or worse, end up throwing up all over Lance in the midst of the party. He’d never live that down.

“Stay on the ground for that time,” she tells him and eyes Lance. “Understood, captain? He doesn’t get back on a broom for the week.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lance nods. “Guess you just became a cheerleader, Keith.”

“Great,” Keith sighs. “Go team,” he says without enthusiasm.

That means the match the day before the masquerade is out. But maybe that’s a good thing. He won’t have to worry about wrecking himself before the dance. He’ll have to just watch Lance play from the stands. Or from the pitch with the coach.

Serena and Hunk help him up, shoulder him through the first of his dizzy steps until he’s walking on his own. Together the team walks back to Hogwarts for dinner. Keith doesn’t eat, he’s not sure he could or should. Throwing up once today is more than enough for him. Instead, he just buries himself in his scarf and listens to the others talk.

Keith’s gotten a few questions about his green and silver scarf since he’s been back. That plus a few strange looks from his fellow Gryffindors. He explains to them that Lance’s mom made it for him when he visited for Christmas. Colors are wrong but she didn’t know any better, and it would be a waste not to wear it. Rude too.

Pidge and Hunk get that. They love Mrs. McClain too and they’d do exactly the same thing so as not to cause any trouble for her. Besides, no matter what the colors are, anything made by her is extra cozy. Hunk still wears the yellow cap and mittens she made for him last year so he more than understands.

Lance still hasn’t worn his Gryffindor scarf since the day he got it. Keith doubts that he ever will.

*****

Four days since they got back and Keith finds a gift for him in Lance’s desk. A red box with green ribbons. He snatches it up but doesn’t get a chance to open it until well after the day is over and he’s back in his room. So he plops down on his bed and dumps the contents of his bag. Several books, the gift, and two half empty potion vials. One for nausea and the other for pain.

The queasiness from that hit two days ago is finally gone. But he still gets several headaches throughout the day. Thanks to Veronica’s gifts he’s been sipping a Ferula draught between classes to ease that. Today he’s only had to do it twice so by the dance he shouldn’t need it at all. He tucks them back into the bag and tears open Lance’s gift.

“What the hell?”

While quirking a confused brow, he dumps several different packets of hot chocolate onto the bed. He doesn’t get it. Was this something they talked about? He doesn't recall. There’s a little note in the box that he unfolds, hoping it’ll explain this present better.

**Lion,**

**I know you said no gifts for Christmas but I couldn’t resist. Also, sorry it’s late. Took me a while to unpack once I got back and I just reached the bottom of my travel case.**

**So here’s the thing about this ridiculously silly present. I don’t know if you know but I’ve been to the Gryffindor common room. Sometime before Christmas break. ~~I’m not saying you have a traitor in your midst but haha YOU DO.~~**

**Anyway, ~~the traitor~~   ~~the spy~~ my buddy treated me to some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. I think it was dark chocolate with caramel? Seasalt too? Man, I wanted nothing more than to share it with you.**

**You know, I kept wishing you’d catch me there. Maybe you did but didn’t give yourself away. A shame because I’d have offered you my cup. And we could have cuddled on the sofa ~~with the chew marks from someone’s rat~~  and drank it together in front of the fire. **

**I don’t know if you got to try any since ~~we~~ my buddy drank the last of it. So here, a little hot chocolate on me. I bought myself the same set so let me know when you’re drinking one. I’ll drink the same one with you. **

**And then maybe one day, we can drink them together. :)**

**Love, Lance**

**P.S. I have one more present for you but you’ll have to wait until the masquerade. It’s not ready and I want to give that one to you in person.**

Keith smiles fondly at the letter and looks down at the hot chocolate. Enough for several weeks. All individually packaged so there’s enough for a single cup at a time. He places a kettle over the old antique potbelly stove used to warm his shared room. Using his wand he directs the packet into tearing and pouring into a coffee mug as he writes in the duolibri with his free hand.

 _Cookies and cream hot chocolate._  
**Then you liked my cheesy gift?  
** _Your gift is chocolatey and sweet. Not cheesy._  
_And yes. I like it a lot. Thanks Lance._  
**< 3**

Keith drinks his cup while they write back and forth. Talking of the days events and how glad he is to be back at Hogwarts. That he missed being able to write to Lion at all hours of the day.

 _I missed that too. Are you excited about the masquerade?_  
**Excited? Every morning I wake up I have to pinch myself.  
** **Gotta make sure I’m not dreaming.  
** **Lion!  
** _What?_  
**I’m finally going to meet you. <3**

Keith snorts. That’s been established already but Lance has said this every day since Christmas. Like a mantra. Like if he doesn’t say it then it simply won’t come true.

 **Crap, I just thought of something.  
** _What’s wrong?_  
**How will I know it’s you? You could be anyone. I don’t want to ask a hundred different people if they’re you. My heart won’t be able to take it each time someone says ‘nope not me’!  
** _Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll know it’s me._  
**Oh yeah? How??**

How? Well...Keith looks around his room trying to come up with an idea. His fingers pick at the covers of his duolibri. Then his eyes fall on the gift box from earlier. Ribbons. He pulls a strand and smirks.

 _I’ll wear a green ribbon. Around my wrist. Then you’ll know it's me._  
**That’s...actually really clever.  
** **Are you sure you’re not a Slytherin at heart? ;)  
**_The only Slytherin in my heart is you._

Keith can admit, he feels really proud of his line. Not even embarrassed by how cheesy it was. Will Lance think it’s--

 **OH MY GOD! YOU’VE KILLED ME! SLAIN! You’re too smooth now, Lion! Too smooth!  
** **The selkies think I’m having a stroke. My face is the color of a fire salamander! Dead! I’m dead! <3**

Keith snorts with subdued laughter as he rests his cheek in his hand. He can just see Lance’s face flushed beyond all knowing while sitting in the Slytherin common room. The selkies tapping on the glass with worry and Lance tapping back that he’s fine. Really. He just needs a chance to breathe.

 **Meeting you is going to be the best night of my life, Lion. I just know it.  
** _I sure hope so._  
_Hey Lance._  
**What?  
** _You’re finally going to meet me._  
**< 3 <3 <3 <3 <3 ****  
** _Don’t be nervous._  
**Who me? Lance McClain never gets nervous!** **Ever!**

Keith rolls his eyes with a smile at that declaration since he knows the truth. He’s probably just as jittery as Keith is. At night Keith has trouble falling asleep because he’s so anxious. And when he checks their book in the wee hours he finds Lance doodling in the margins because he can’t sleep either.

 _We should turn in Lance._  
**Yeah, I have a makeup test tomorrow morning. And I gotta adjust all my plays for the game on Thursday since we’re down our best player--after me of course.  
** _Of course._  
**And I still have to add the finishing touches to my ensemble for Friday. Do you think a tie is too much? It’s too much right? But it’s a fancy party--  
** _You’ll look great no matter what you wear. You always do._  
**Aww thanks Lion. <3 Good night. Sleep tight.  
**_Night Lance._

Keith closes the book with a soft smile. He stands and goes to the window to look out of the tower. Eyes lid as he takes in the castle grounds, his fingers pressed against the cold glass. His smile slowly disappears as his heart thunders nervously in his ears.

“Just three days…” Keith says with a sigh.

In the Slytherin dungeons, Lance falls back on the carpet in front of the lake glass.

No dark shapes swim in front of him, nothing reminiscent of a selkie or grindylow. Everyone’s asleep, selkies, owls, and students alike. He should go to bed too but he can’t bring himself to get up yet. Lance lets out a deep sigh and whispers to the empty common room.

“A couple more days,” Lance utters. “And everything will change…”

*****

Tonight's the night.

Lance stands near the food tables as he fidgets with the silvered cufflinks on his sleeves. He decided to dress it up a bit, different from how he usually does for these parties. But since tonight is anything but usual he feels ‘fancy’ is what’s called for. It’s gotta be...special.

A nice pair of black slacks with a tucked in grey button up. Dressy pinstripe vest that he charmed to be emerald green for the night. A silver and green striped tie with a silver snake tie clip. He’s got a half mask on, silver with filigree designs that look like reptile scales and tied with a green ribbon.

In case it wasn’t obvious, he’s leaning into his Slytherin colors. Not only does it look good but it matches the room decor--which he helped put up by the way.

Elegant candle-lit chandeliers shimmering above the partygoers. Silky green ribbons streaming from one end to the other. Lance’s idea taken from what he saw in the Gryffindor common room. Seating areas with curtains for those who want a little privacy for conversations and perhaps a little more. Floor charmed to be a glassy obsidian, reflecting the ceiling of sparkling glass.

Food and drink tables in various corners of the room. A live band with some magical singing toads, courtesy of the Hogwarts Frog Choir. There’s even a table with spare masks for those who forgot to get their own or didn’t feel like making theirs.

Everything looks out of a fairy tale. A ball in which princes and princesses meet the one of their dreams. Took nearly three hours but it was worth it. It has to be perfect. This night has to be perfect.

It’s probably painfully clear how invested Lance is in this going well.

To top it all off, he’s nervous beyond belief. He just can’t stop scanning the crowd and biting his lip as he cranes his neck around. It’s hard to recognize anyone with the masks but that’s sort of the point. No one has trouble recognizing him though thanks to his height and familiar smile. He gets more than few hellos but he barely does the minimum required at being sociable. He’s too busy looking around and not finding what he’s looking for.

“Damn,” he huffs under his breath. Some people are wearing full masks, which makes it even harder to identify anyone.

What will Lion be wearing? A half mask too? Will he be dressed up? Or casual like a lot of the others? He didn’t say in his last message.

Guess it’ll be a surprise.

Party’s just barely begun but he checks wrists left and right. No green ribbon which means no luck yet. He just has to wait. Several times he gets asked to dance but he politely declines. Says his ankle’s been bothering him but it’s not true.

No, there’s only one person he wants to dance with tonight and he won’t move from this spot until he sees him.

*****

Keith adjusts his mask in the mirror but it slips off kilter. The elastic is too loose. Maybe he should switch it out with something he can knot? He takes it off and frowns at it as he changes it out.

It’s a bronzed domino mask with the eyes blacked out. Very plain admittedly but the point is just to obscure his eyes which he’s sure Lance would recognize right away. Just one of many steps he’s already taken to not be _immediately_ identifiable.

His wardrobe was the first thing. No way he was going in his uniform again. Dead give away. But since he doesn’t have any colorful outfits he’s borrowing some clothes from his roommates for the night. Nothing fancy this short notice but something stylish enough.

Distressed black jeans hugging his legs. Leather studded belt. Boots with crimson accents. A navy blue v-neck tee with a nice red flannel thrown over it. Unbuttoned for comfort since it’s a little small. He then rolled up the sleeves to his elbows and slapped on a few leather bracelets.

If that wasn't good enough he also pulled his hair up into a short ponytail. He hasn’t worn it like this since secondary school which means Lance has never seen it this way. He remembered to tie the green ribbon around his wrist too. Last, he adjusts his mask once more, making sure it’s secure, before stepping back to turn around in the mirror.

Looks good. And unrecognizable.

“Perfect,” Keith smirks.

They’ll meet. Lance will be handsome and charming and seductive. Keith will _not_ throw up. They’ll dance. They’ll drink. They’ll laugh. And just have...a really fun time.

Then after the night winds down, he can pull Lance away from the crowd. Out into the hall. Somewhere where they can be alone, like the courtyard. No one else. Just the two of them. He can take off his mask and confess. If it goes badly at least...he’ll only embarrass himself in front of Lance and not the entire school.

Not exactly the most comforting of thoughts. In fact, it brings that anxious churning in his gut back. He’s nervous, that goes without saying but...he’s excited too. What if--Keith shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

It’ll be fine. No, it’ll be great, he thinks. No more stalling.

It’s time.

*****

Lance is starting to worry a little. Party’s been in full swing for an hour now and still no sign of Lion. He’s had two glasses of punch so far to calm his nerves and now his stomach bubbles with uncertainty again. His lip getting puffy from how much he keeps biting it.

What if he stands Lance up? What if he changed his mind? No way to check. He didn’t bring the duolibri with him since there was no room in his nice outfit. He could be waiting here all night for someone who’s not going to come. And then a worse thought comes to mind.

What if this is the bad something his Nan always told him would happen?

That thought is immediately banished at the sight of the big doors opening. A latecomer. Is it...? The person pushes the door open cautiously and peers in. Lance cranes his neck, heart lifting with hope.

On his wrist...is a green ribbon tied into a bow.

“That’s him,” Lance barely breathes. “Lion.”

The newcomer takes a deep breath and enters, making a beeline straight to the drinks table. Lance takes him in as he walks across the room.

Lion went casual and comfortable. Makes sense. This meeting is probably stressful enough without worrying about fancy clothes. Once Lion makes it to the drink table he immediately pounds back two shots and Lance snorts out a laugh.

“He really is the nervous type,” Lance chuckles to himself.

Well, this is the first time they’re meeting face to face. The first time they’ll talk. Maybe Lion needs a little liquid courage so he doesn’t end up backing out. Hard to fault him for it. Lance approaches the table in slow steps so he can take in more of Lion without startling him.

Shorter than him but only by...maybe a few inches. Dark hair pulled back into a short tail. Didn’t he say he used to wear it long? Exposes his neck, which is thicker than he thought it would be. Lance scans further as he nears the table.

Pale skin and broad looking shoulders. Lance doesn’t know why but he almost expected him to be smaller in terms of muscle mass. For a self proclaimed loner and artist he has an athlete’s build. He looks...muscular, actually.

The closer Lance gets the more painfully obvious it is that his date is nervous. He’s got both hands on the table, supporting him as he hunches over and takes several calming breaths. Already there’s a deep flush to his cheeks and he’s biting lightly into his lower lip.

“Excuse me,” Lance says to him but he doesn’t react other than to scoot over a bit. To give Lance access to the punch bowl he was blocking.

“Sorry,” he barely mumbles.

“No, uh...Lion? It’s you, right?” Lance inquires and finally he looks up.

The mask’s eyes are blacked out, which is a shame. Lance would love to see what color his eyes are. Warm brown? Verdant green? Stormy grey? Lion swallows thickly but nods his head and Lance’s heart races just that much faster.

It really is him. Now's his chance. Pull out the charm McClain, he tells himself.

“Dance with me?” Lance asks and offers a hand.

“I uh--” he starts, his voice cracking.

“I’ll show you how,” Lance promises with a soft smile. “Please?”

This is it. No turning back. If he can’t find his voice he can at least find his courage. Damn it, he's Keith Kogane. There’s nothing he can’t do.

So he reaches out and takes Lance’s hand. His hand...it’s so soft. Warm fingers immediately close in around his and pull gently. Keith lets himself get tugged onto the dance floor until he can’t see the tables anymore. His date finds a spot for them but it’s a little crowded with other couples. Means there’s almost no space between them as they begin.

Lance remembers that Lion said something about having two left feet. So he starts them off with a bit of slow dance. Gently swaying in time with the slow song playing. Hands tenderly perched on his hips and leaning in close.

Keith follows his lead and leans into the hold, hands flat against Lance’s green vest. He’s wanted to do this for months. Very nearly did it during vacation break when Lance hugged him but now...he finally can. So Keith tries relaxing a little more in his hold, nose almost pressed to his chest.

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Or maybe it’s just Lance’s presence. Either way he’s not as scared now.

The dance floor gets warmer with the next song, which has a little more of a beat to it. Means there’s lots of people bumping and pushing them in closer to one another. Maybe he could--Keith’s hands slide up a little, tentatively at first, as if not sure he should but Lance nods at him, giving him the go ahead. He brings them up until his fingers lace behind Lance’s neck making him smile.

Keith can’t believe this. All this contact and he hasn’t felt like vomiting. Not even once. Maybe he can do that thing he’s been wanting to give a try. After all, why practice every night if he’s not going to at least attempt it?

Be bold, he tells himself. Courage.

When a song with the right tempo starts, Keith seizes his opportunity.

Lance blinks with confusion as the guy in his hold breaks from him. Not to go anywhere but to adjust their hands before moving in close again. He’s taken the lead away from Lance and is now directing their steps into something familiar and surprising. It’s simple but unmistakable.

“Holy shit,” Lance says with shock then grins ecstatically. “So you _can_ dance!”

Keith smirks and shrugs a little. Lance laughs and leans in, brushing his lips near his ear to whisper.

“Lead the way then,” Lance says, his voice so sultry that Keith feels his stomach do a flip. “I’m in your hands.”

The dance is everything he hoped it would be. With all the practice he did, it damn well better be. The feel of Lance’s body against his, hand in the small of his back and the other at his shoulder, controlling the way Lance’s body rolls and undulates with his--it’s fantastic. And from the intrigued smile on Lance’s face, he’s more than enjoying it.

He wishes he knew more than the basic steps but he does manage a turn out to the left like Lance likes and it makes Lance beam a wide grin. Perfect. When the song is over Lance sidles back in close to him with a laugh. His hand raises and caresses Keith’s jaw, brushing his thumb down his skin.

“I was right, you _are_ amazing,” Lance chuckles. He can’t stop smiling and Keith’s finding he can’t stop either. “How about...some good ole fashioned club dancing now? If we Bachata anymore I’ll swoon and you’ll have to carry me to the Infirmary.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, Keith thinks mirthfully. But he nods, ready to to instead have Lance’s hands on him for a few songs.

And that’s what he gets. Lance pulls him into a hold, presses in close, no distance if he can help it. It’s like he doesn’t want to risk letting go and Keith running away--not that he has to worry about that much right now.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you came,” Lance tells him. “I was beginning to think...you weren’t real.”

“ _I’m here, aren’t I?_ ” Keith says and Lance blinks as the Spanish sentence registers.

“Oh. my. god. You-- ” Lance laughs incredulously and squeezes him into a hug. Lifts him off the ground and twirls him into a circle before putting him down again. “ _You’re not just amazing. You’re perfect!_ ” he says into his neck.

God that makes Keith want to melt.

Lance turns him to fit them closer together, his chest pressed firmly against Keith’s back and those hands still on his hips so they can move together. Lance’s chin nestles into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, snug and rubbing his cheek on Keith’s pulse. Practically nuzzling into him as they move into a slow grind.

If Keith thought watching this dance from afar was stimulating, being a part of it is downright exhilarating. He’s going to overload all his senses. The smell of  Lance’s cologne, the sound of his sighs as he breathes Keith in, his crotch pressing firmly against his ass, and those warm hands guiding him into grinding against him.

Luckily, there are too many bodies pushed in together here for anyone to notice or comment on the semi in his pants. The one he mentally has to keep willing away so it doesn’t go full hard-on. And Lance isn’t exactly making it easy.

Everything feels amazing but the downside is how warm it gets. All this friction warms things considerably. And this flannel feels like a poor idea in hindsight. It was a way to cover more of himself up in the hope it would distract Lance from looking too close but now he’s sweating bullets.

He breaks away for a second so he can take it off. Lance watches with intense eyes as he peels the shirt from his broad shoulders and ties a snug knot around his hips. Lance’s eyes wander giving Keith the once over, his smile curling up a little.

No recognition. Just interest. A lot of interest from the way his eyes keep trailing over him. Good.

Keith returns to Lance, but this time so they’re face to face. He likes looking at his beautiful blue eyes up close. Lance pulls him in, tugging at his hands until they’re pressed against his chest again. That’s when Keith notices a vibrant flush on Lance’s face.

Nervous. Lance is nervous.

Keith’s never seen him look like this before, not with anyone, not even his ex. Lance’s eyes keep darting down to Keith’s lips before he tilts down to say something in his ear. He whispers, just barely loud enough for Keith to hear him over the music.

“I have something for you,” Lance says. “That belated Christmas present I told you about?”

Lance stops their dancing for a second and pulls something from his vest.  It’s small whatever it is and he folds it into Keith’s hand before taking his hand away. Keith looks down and unfurls his fingers to find a sprig of...he blinks in awe. Then a red flush creeps down from under his mask.

Mistletoe. Just like from his poem.

“Redeemable anytime you want to kiss me,” Lance promises with a nervous smile and averting eyes.

Anytime? Now is a time.

Mistletoe still clutched in hand Keith pulls on Lance’s vest and their lips crash together.

All sound fades away and Keith feels...lightning course through his body starting at the contact point. Fireworks flashing behind his eyes in colors he’s never seen before. All those terrified fears obliterated in the wake of finally having his hands on Lance and kissing him.

Lance blinks several times with mild surprise to find lips on his. Lion’s lips. Soft, wet, and eagerly mouthing against his. The second the initial shock wears off his eyes lid then close to fall into the taste of Lion. Lance cups his cheeks and holds him, his mouth parting to deepen their first kiss. 

Keith only intended for one kiss. Just one. But one kiss turns into two. And then three. Now they’re at six and they’ve become a spectacle in the center of the dance floor. They’ve got a few gawkers giggling and whispering but most people continue to dance while periodically eyeing the two of them.

It’s perfect Keith thinks. Couldn’t be better. His blood is singing through his veins and as Lance kisses him he tries to commit every bit of it to memory.

The warmth of Lance’s body under his fingertips. Skin smelling of Cuba Gold. The slick heat of his mouth that he can’t stop exploring with his tongue. Tastes like mint and punch.  

He relishes in Lance’s soft hums as he eagerly kisses back. The soft plumpness of Lance’s lips as he nibbles on them. His tongue sliding in to coax a moan out of Keith’s throat. And those slender fingers sliding over his face and thumb slipping under his---mask!

Not here! Not yet!

Keith wrenches back, instinctively pushing away. A mistake. Lance’s fingers are holding his mask. When he tries to retreat the strand securing it strains under the pressure.

The ribbon pops.

God the sound is so loud and horrifying in Keith’s ears that it almost sounds like someone casted _expulso_ right next to him. In fact, he’d almost prefer it in place of what’s happening. Fast as lightning, before Lance can see, Keith plasters a hand to his face to hide his eyes and turns away .

“Lion, I--!”

No, no, no. _No! No! **NO!**_ This isn’t what he wanted! This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen!

He has to get out of here now. Away from all these prying eyes and nosy people. Somewhere quiet and vacant. Somewhere _not here._

Keith suddenly takes off pushing nearby onlookers out of his way. Hiding as much of his face as possible with one hand, he quickly shoves his way through the crowd of curious people with the other.

“Wait! Wait!” Lance calls out but Keith doesn’t stop. He just keeps pushing until he’s off the dance floor and then makes a mad dash for the door.

Lance shoves and pushes people out of his way trying to keep up. He’s already pulled off his own mask and abandoned it to the ground. But the bronze domino, Lion’s mask, is still in his hand.

He still can’t believe he did that--tried to take off Lion’s mask to see his face. But he was so curious and Lion was right there, finally close enough to touch. His head fogged with punch and romantic notions of looking into Lion’s eyes but still…He may have ruined everything with that stunt. Ruined his chance with the perfect guy.

What was he thinking? 

By the time Lance gets outside the party he just barely catches the red flannel going around the corner. So he takes off in that direction, feet pounding the stone floor and echoing down the halls. The further he goes the fewer people are around but he keeps spotting that familiar red. He’s slowly catching up but his feet are killing him. These shoes weren’t made for running.

“Wait! Please!” Lance desperately calls out, his voice cracking from exerting himself. “Please! Stop...” he gasps, a hand bracing on the wall to catch his breath. “Please don’t...run...from me...” he begs.

Surprisingly, Lion listens. At the end of the hall, he's stopped at the corner, his shoulders heaving with every breath. His whole body looks stiff, shoulders hunched and rigid. Lance listens to Lion’s breathing and hears something else. Sounds like water dripping...is Lion crying?

Lance takes a step forward down the long hall but when he gets too close his quarry starts to step away.

“Don’t go,” Lance pleads and even stops a good several yards from him so he won’t bolt. “I’m sorry. I just...I wanted to see your face. I...didn’t think--It was so stupid...I forgot about your anxiety...please don’t go, Lion. God, I am _so_ sorry.”

Lion wipes his face with his arm.

“Please...come back?” Lance asks him.

Lance takes several steps closer and Lion doesn’t move. He gets about three feet from him and Lion turns his head to the side so he can’t look at him. Still upset. Understandable. With a sympathetic sigh, Lance extends the mask towards him.

Keith knows there’s no point in taking it and hiding his face again. Half the dancefloor saw him. Hell, if Lance had just stuck around and asked someone there they’d have told him. It’s over. He can’t hide anymore. He’s going to find out.

The only thing left in his control is exposing his charade himself.

Lance watches as he waves the mask away and takes a deep breath. Lion pulls the hair tie from his head making his hair fall down in wild, unruly strands. He stands up straight and raises his chin. That posture it’s...why does he feel like he’s seen it before? Then Lion slowly turns his head to reveal his sullen face.

The bronze domino mask slips from Lance’s fingers and clatters to the floor, the sound echoing for miles. Lance takes a shocked step backward as he tries to come to terms with what he’s seeing. Standing in front of him is supposed to be Lion, the guy of his dreams, but why does he look like--

“It can’t...Keith?” he stammers, confused. “But that can’t... _you_ can’t...how...?”

Lance looks bewildered and confused, like he can’t make sense of it. His expectations aren’t matching up to the person in front of him. Lance's hand goes to his forehead as he tries to think but he looks so uncertain as he shakes his head and his eyes dart around.

When he takes another confused step back Keith’s heart splits.

“I...don’t…” Lance swallows, his brows furrowed. “I don’t understand. Is this... _a joke_?”

What did he expect Lance to do? Embrace him and exclaim ‘I was hoping it was you!’? Maybe some mild surprise but instant acceptance? That kind of garbage only happens in children’s books. God, why does his chest hurt?

“Cause this isn’t...it’s not f-funny,” Lance says, his voice catching. Subconsciously Lance grabs his own hand and thumbs his palm. “N-Not funny...I...you’re not...really him...”

Keith feels resentful anger rising in his gut. Some of it unfairly directed at Lance but most of it at himself.

He should have known better. This was a mistake. Everything was better before he tried to take too much. Why couldn’t he have been happy with what they had? He did this to himself! And damn it all to hell, another stabbing pain shoots through his chest as Lance takes yet another step back _away_ from him.

It’s ruined. All of it. Damn it he wants to put his fist through the bricks, it’d be less painful than this. Instead, Keith grits his teeth in anguish and turns away from Lance.

“Guess we’re both stuck being islands,” he bitterly growls, fresh tears spilling from his eyes.

Lance’s eyes widen, recognizing the phrasing from his own limerick. One Keith shouldn’t know about.

“Whatever, I knew this would never work,” Keith practically spits over his shoulder. He grabs his arms, hugging them to himself, and then stalks down the corridor to retreat to the safety of his tower. “Night, _Captain.”_

Lance doesn’t chase him. He doesn’t speak either. He just...doesn’t know what to do.

So he just stands there in confused silence as he watches Keith disappear down the dark halls.  Once Keith’s back vanishes, his eyes fall on the bronze mask on the ground. And next to it is the abandoned sprig of mistletoe. Even long after Keith’s gone Lance continues to stand there.

Stunned, speechless, and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr Artist Leadernovaandthemacabre has created some AMAZING fanart!  
> **  
> [Please go check it out](https://leadernovaandthemacabre.tumblr.com/post/179686480912/holy-shit-so-you-can-dance-lance-is-wooed-by-a) and maybe give them a follow!
> 
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> Don't know what to say? Tell me your favorite part. Or your favorite line. Leave nothing but hearts. Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that stuff and I'm no exception!
> 
> Also, if you really like Voltron stuff and want more, check out my other fics. Tell me what you think of them! If I'm stagnating on one maybe YOU can be the one to inspire me to keep writing!


	20. The Two of Cups (Upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Chapter of Part 1 of The Paladins of Hogwarts
> 
> If you want to know more about the future of this fic please read the end notes.
> 
> Other than that...cry bitches *sends you smooches*

_ “[This] indicates a blossoming new relationship based on mutual attraction. There is both a physical and soul connection...You bring out the best in each other and lift each other up to even higher levels of potential. There is a heartfelt exchange of raw emotion, and you are both willing to do whatever it takes to support one another.”   ---Biddy Tarot _

  
  


No sign of Keith on Saturday or Sunday. No one’s seen him. Not even Serena. He misses his Monday classes. His Tuesday ones too. Nothing. Oliver’s been taking all his work back to the tower but even he won’t talk about it. Not that Lance is exactly asking.

The Slytherin Masquerade is the talk of the school but not for the reasons Lance wanted. Everyone can’t stop gossiping about Keith Kogane, surly and serious Gryffindor rebel, making out with the Slytherin Captain of the scrimmage team. It’s...a fucking nightmare. He can’t walk anywhere without hearing about it. At least some have the decency to wait until he's around the corner to start laughing, but most don't.

Many think it was some kind of prank. The Gryffindors say it was a dirty trick on Lance’s part, to embarrass Keith. The Slytherins contest that it’s just the opposite. That it was Keith’s doing. Either way, lots of people joke and playfully jab at Lance saying things like ‘I can’t believe you did that! Traitor!’ while others defend him with ‘What, he didn’t know! It was a masquerade party! That was the point!’ 

Lance wishes they’d all stop talking about it.

Out of habit he pulls out his duolibri and looks inside. Today it's no different from the last several days. Nothing new. The last thing in it is Lion saying he’s on his way to the party as soon as he gets his stupid mask to cooperate. 

Or rather, Keith saying he’s on his way. It still feels so surreal each time he remembers that.

Keith is Lion. Was always Lion. And Lion...was in love with Lance. Which means Keith was in love with Lance. Which means Lance is in love with--Lance slams his fist on common room table in frustration.

God, how was he supposed to know? Keith? Into him? The way he talks to Lance on the average day...nothing would have led him to believe he was even remotely interested. Sure they talk with some frequency but--Maybe if Keith had given him a look, the once over. Or maybe just threw a line his way he’d have suspected--

_ I say something like that to his face I’ll throw up on his shoes. _

The guy Keith mentioned liking...it’s now clear it was Lance. And Keith was so nervous around him he broke down into tears in the courtyard. Then he did the only thing he could--followed Lance’s advice on how to talk to him. 

And now Lance can’t help but see a frazzled Keith writing out that first note, nervous and frustrated with his feelings. Pulling at his hair, throwing things around his room. Kicking desks. Balling up first drafts before finally getting the words right. Sitting in his desk with a nervousness in his gut as Lance opened it and read his confession.

He was probably certain Lance was going to laugh it off. Especially considering how they started out. But he wrote it anyway. Hoping against hope that maybe that fight didn’t set them back too far. That he could make it right a second time around. Starting over with nothing more than a friendly note.

And it worked. They poured their hearts out to each other over their books. Romantic poems. Playful flirting. Jokes. Their dreams and insecurities. Keith’s never had a friend like him before. He even said as much in their correspondence, that he’s never felt so close to someone.

And Lance destroyed his trust. Wounded him. After all he said to Lion about it not mattering what he looked like only to step away from him like he was repulsed by the very notion of Keith. He revealed the truth to Lance only to get crushed. Rejected. 

“But that’s not...I was just...confused?” Lance mumbles, trying to defend himself from no one. 

Admittedly it felt like a prank at first. Like Keith took all he’d confided in him about Lion and twisted it. To play on his insecurities about finding love. Just some joke at his expense and that thought hurt. What kind of friend plays with someone’s feelings like that? It seemed almost intentionally cruel. 

But those tears on Keith’s face...they were real. That pained expression...no one can fake that kind of hurt. By the time Lance realized it wasn’t a dirty trick, the damage was done. Keith was gone, the party was over, and Lance was laying in his bed trying to reconcile all the facts. Even now it still seems a little hard to swallow.

That’s why Keith isn’t back yet, he guesses. He doesn’t want to face Lance again. It’s too painful.

*****

Day five and Keith still hasn’t returned to class. It’s starting to worry Lance a bit. He missed Quidditch practice which meant subbing in Pidge again as Seeker. They didn’t win. Not even close. And no one wants to say why even though they all know the reason.

On top of feeling guilty, he’s starting to feel lonely. Several times Lance has tugged the duolibri from his robe and opened it at their usual evening talk time. He very nearly writes in it, gets his pen ready and hovers above the page before he sees Keith’s last message. 

_ On my way as soon as get this stupid mask to stay on. See you soon. :) _

Lance then sighs and tosses the pen aside because he doesn’t know what to say. What do you say after something like this? Instead, he peruses over the early pages of poetry, conversations, and drawings. He used to imagine what Lion looked like while writing them but now he envisions Keith.

Curled up in a blanket on his bed, a small excited smile on his face. Laughing quietly to himself when Lance told him a joke. Dipping his calligraphy pen in different colored inks to write a poem to brighten Lance’s day. Keith seems like the type to flop back onto his bed with a content sigh when they said goodnight.

Some of the pages look strange now. They’re waterlogged, the ink running in places. And it takes Lance only a second to understand why. Keith, he’s been crying over them. The mental image stabs Lance with even more guilt and he closes it.

He’s not sure if the tearstained pages are the reason but Lance finally gets the impulse to ask about him after Potions.

“Oliver, just a sec,” Lance calls out, flagging him down. “Hey, uh. You seen Keith today?”

“Sorry mate,” Oliver shakes his head. “I just leave his work outside the door and pick it up in the morning. Even his roomies can’t get him to pop out for a minute.”

“Oh. Thanks anyway,” Lance nods, clearly disappointed as he turns away. 

“Hold up, Lance,” Oliver calls and Lance comes back. “I heard about what happened. Rough luck that. Professor Shirogane checked in on him yesterday and he was in there for a while. Give asking him a burl?”

“Sure,” Lance nods with a weak smile. 

“And uh...I wouldn’t listen to the gossip mongers. Bunch of stickybeaks. Everything out their mouths--absolute rubbish,” Oliver assures him and then frowns. “They think it's a lark, the two of you pash-n-macking. Er, sorry mate, kissin',” he clarifies. “That or they think it’s funny to knock it because of house rivalry.”

“And what do  _ you  _ think?”

“I think it’s right tripe to poke at it like it’s some bluey on the beach,” he says. “Laughing and blathering like it’s some comedy to entertain themselves with. Bunch of drongos. Fancy lobbing them all into the dunny if I could.”

Lance can’t help but laugh at that and Oliver beams a big grin. He has no idea what half those words mean but god if they aren’t the funniest words ever. And he can recognize a kind sentiment when he hears it. Oliver is on his side and trying to cheer him up. He can appreciate that. 

“Thanks, man,” Lance chuckles. “I needed that.”

“Things look a little spotty right now but she’ll be apples in the end,” Oliver says with a supportive pat to the shoulder. 

Lance snorts, “I hope that means 'things will work out'.”

“It does,” Oliver nods with a kind smile. “See you around mate.”

After his talk with Oliver, he does feel a little better. But he’d feel even better if Keith would come back to class. Then maybe they could...talk? He doesn’t want Keith to be miserable. It’s not like he hates the guy...in fact he...Lance frowns, eyes downcast.

How does he feel about all this? About Keith?

In truth...he’s been avoiding thinking about it. He has all these lingering feelings and he’s not sure where to direct them but there is still one other person he’s yet to ask. Someone who knows Keith better than anyone else at the school and might even have a few wise words to help him process this.

The DADA professor is organizing test papers when he comes in, shuffling through them with a tired sigh as he sips a cup of coffee. With a grimace he puts it down and casts a small spell at it, warming it back up before sipping again. Lance doesn’t want to bother him while he’s working but he’s stalled on this long enough.

“Professor.”

“Ah, Lance,” he nods his greeting. He’s much more casual after class. “You need something?” he asks as he puts down his reading glasses. 

“I...just wanted to know if you’d seen Keith lately,” Lance asks, his eyes on the window. 

Shiro’s features go solemn and he looks wary to answer. But he clears his throat and nods.

“He’s feeling a little under the weather,” Shiro tells him. The answer is vague and Lance frowns at him. 

“Sick? Or…”

“Nothing life-threatening but...I think everyone goes through it at least once in their life,” Shiro says, a sage look on his face. 

Heartbreak. Yeah...Lance knows that feeling but it pales in comparison to what he’s been feeling lately. He’d take a dozen of those breakups to not feel this swelling of guilt and sadness in his gut. And this other sensation...like a dull ache in his chest. 

What is it? This feeling?

“I see,” Lance sighs.

“He’ll be okay,” Shiro tells him and tries a reassuring smile. “He just needs a little time. And some space. He’ll be back soon.”

*****

Shiro’s right, of course.

Keith finally comes back to class on the sixth day, late afternoon. Lance didn’t expect to see him sitting at his usual desk in DADA. But there he is. 

Lance actually stops in his tracks and stares in the doorway for a full minute thinking it’s some illusion spell. People have to push by him to get in. Lance wakes from the staring after a few jostles and takes his seat across the room, stretching his neck to look.

The Gryffindor looks like an absolute wreck. 

Keith has bags under his eyes, eyes that look hollow. Emotionally vacant, like he drained it all out of him. Solemn frown. No spark. His hair is brushed but not styled as well as he usually does. The uniform is barely put together right. And he’s...not wearing his Slytherin scarf anymore. 

Seems like a shadow of who he was before.

He doesn’t look at Lance, not even once, and Lance knows because he spends most of class looking at him. The sight of him sitting there calmly writing his notes has Lance revisiting all their prior interactions with open eyes.

Lance was always making comments about how they should meet. But Lion--Keith--kept dodging the suggestions. Or coming up with reasons or excuses as to put it off. He must have worried that Lance wouldn’t handle it well. Perhaps even dreaded the thought of all their fun banter changing in the face of a meetup. Which, initially, Lance had thought was a silly idea but then...isn’t that exactly what happened?

In person, Lance could never get more than a couple sentences out of Keith before he’d clam up. But as Lion he could talk all day. Compliments and conversation flowed for hours between them. Like it was easier than breathing. 

Keith bought them their books. Invited him into the Gryffindor common room. Had dinner with his parents and diverted attention away from his housing assignment. Saved him at the beach. Helped carry him up the stairs after their night of drinking and dancing. Things any friend would do but could never give him away or get misconstrued as--

“Oh my god,” Lance mouths silently as a memory hits him.

The sexting! Christ, he was sexting with  _ Keith!  _

Lance flushes bright red at the memory. The memory of laying on the bed, mouth agape and panting, stroking out his orgasm while thinking about sucking Lion--Keith--off. And Keith, he was doing the same thing in the other room. Probably even listened in. Hell, if Lance had known he’d have--

What? What would he have done? A question he tries not to think too hard about.

Keith leaves class five minutes early. Shiro doesn’t say anything or try to stop him. In fact, he hardly acknowledges it at all. Probably something they worked out. Lance worries that it means he’s heading back to Gryffindor tower and is relieved when he arrives in Potions to find that’s not the case.

The Gryffindor is there sitting at his cauldron but he’s got his head down in his arms on the desk like he’s getting ready to take a nap. Lance almost approaches him but at the last second balks. He changes direction and goes to his normal seat. A few people try to get Keith to talk but he ignores them. Doesn’t even lift his head until Honerva begins her lecture. 

Like last time, five minutes before class lets out, Keith leaves. Shoulders his bag and walks right out, right past Lance without sparing him a glance at all. Lance never expected being ignored to feel exactly like getting slapped by an icy hand. It stings.

When Honerva dismisses them Lance runs out into the hall, to maybe catch Keith so they can at least talk. About the masquerade. About what happened. He’s not sure what he’ll say or how he’ll say it but...it’s got to be better than this cold shoulder routine. Spending the rest of the school year pretending like nothing ever happened, pretending like they were never even friends-- it's not exactly appealing.

But Keith's nowhere to be seen. Gone.

“He went back to the tower,” Serena tells him from the wall. “I...don’t think he really wants to talk.”

“To me, specifically,” Lance frowns while looking down. 

“Probably but…” Serena sighs. “I don’t think Kogane really talks to anyone about anything. Can’t be healthy.”

As Lion, Keith would talk to Lance. About everything. Personal and not. And now he has...nothing. Keith’s all alone with only his emotions and thoughts bottled up inside with nowhere to go. And that notion hurts Lance more than he thought it would. 

“You know,” she says. “Kogane, he didn’t do it to trick you. The thing at the masquerade.”

Lance knows that now but he’s curious as to how she knows. 

“Sometimes, I’d catch him staring at you,” Serena tells him. “At first with that stone face. You know the one. The almost glare? I thought it was because he wanted to wring your neck. For the fight and the duel and whatever.”

“But?” Lance asks, sensing a caveat.

Something changed, she explains. Keith stopped joining in on the prideful boasting. Stopped ragging on Lance for being absolute shite at DADA and Potions. Started glaring at people who took part in that kind of thing and berating them for it, saying they should be ‘better than that’. Started that obnoxious tapping which seemed to take all his focus but brought this proud smirk to his face.

And soon after, everything about Keith seemed a bit quieter. Calmer. He wasn’t so harsh with everyone, didn’t yell as much. Even Alex couldn’t get much of a rise out of him which is saying a lot. He smiled to himself more frequently. Lance guesses that that was around the time they started writing to each other.

“I think he liked you,” Serena states. “But because he liked you he was also afraid of you.”

“Why?”

“I think everyone thinks because we’re Gryffindors it means we never get scared,” Serena frowns and rubs the back of her neck. “I can jump into a fight in a heartbeat and never think about how much it’s going to hurt until later. I won’t even regret the bruises and scrapes, especially if I thought I was in the right. But that said...it took me seven years to tell my parents I liked girls because I had no idea what the outcome might be and it terrified me,” she says closing her eyes with a sigh.

She’s right. He’d always thought Gryffindors just don’t get scared. They rush in, no holds barred, and tackle any problem they can head on. Sometimes literally. 

Keith fits that. He could trounce everyone in the freshman class when it comes to dueling and pretty much has. Knows dozens of curses and countercurses to bring any witch or wizard to their knees with a haughty look on his face. 

And yet he was afraid of Lance...

Not because of his skills. Or his cunning. Or his boasting. But because one word from Lance was stronger than any hex he’s ever had hurled at him. A single look could make or break Keith like no spell ever could. 

There was always the chance Lance would reject him once he came clean. That Lance would feel betrayed despite his intentions. Keith must have been nervous beyond all measure. Scared it would all go sideways. Even so, he took the risk. He showed up to the masquerade hoping it would all work out.

“I’d take a fist fight I’m destined to lose any day rather than be in Kogane’s place right now,” Serena finishes up. “There are potions and spells for healing cuts and bruises. Nothing cures heartache but time.”

Nothing but time. He should just wait for Keith to get over it? Lance doesn’t like that at all and it shows by the disapproving frown on his face.

“Just leave him alone. He’ll get over you,” she shrugs dismissively. “It’s not like you like him, right?”

“What? Me and Kei--I mean, he’s...I’m…” Lance scratches his head as he trails off. “Honestly, I...don’t really know how to feel...about all this,” Lance admits. “It’s...kind of the reason I keep trying to catch him--so we can talk it out.”

She blinks with wide eyes, clearly surprised at that answer. 

“Huh,” Serena then smirks with a hand on her hip. “I take back what I said. Don’t give him space. Or time. Bug him. Annoy him as much as you possibly can. Be relentless.”

“What? But you said--”

“I know what I said! I also just told you I took it back!” Serena interrupts. “Keep up, McClain!”

“But why--”

“Because I asked you a question and if the answer had been ‘no’ I’d have let it be,” Serena says. “But your answer was most decidedly not a ‘no’ so this isn’t over yet,” she adds and then hooks an arm around his neck pulling him in. “You want Kogane to talk to you? Just do what I say…”

*****

Keith drops his bag once he’s in his shared room and collapses onto the bed with a tired sigh. 

Damn. His pillow is still a little damp. He flips it over before burying his face into it again.

Numb. He’s cried so much that he’s practically numb to everything. Even when Shiro came to talk to him yesterday he said almost nothing. And when he did it was robotic and monotone.

Is he okay? No. 

Do you need a nurse to come up to your room? No. 

Does this have anything to do with Friday? The party and the rumors? Keith didn’t answer him on that one and just buried his face into his pillow. All he said after that was ‘go away’ and ‘just leave me alone’. 

Shiro had told him to come back to class when he was ready. That he’d cut him some slack on his attendance. And he’d let the faculty know he’s been feeling sick. It should help if he’s off in class. 

Class certainly felt off today. Most of the time, he tried to only focus on the lesson. Didn’t divert his eyes anywhere other than the chalkboard or his textbook. It was easier to pretend nothing existed outside of those two things so he wouldn’t try looking at or thinking about Lance.

He could feel his eyes on him today but pretended not to.  It’s the only way he’s going to be able to get through this. Seeing Lance hurts too much. 

Maybe he should send in a letter of withdrawal from the scrimmage team too. Since he’s not going to be able to play with Lance there. It’ll be far too awkward. He should ask if he can change seats in Charms too while he’s at it. Put him out of sight and, eventually, out of mind.

A knock at the door interrupts his thoughts.

“What?” Keith huffs into his pillow.

“Just me,” Shiro peeks in. “Still feeling down?”

Keith doesn’t answer, just rolls over so Shiro can’t see his face. 

“Are you feeling better than yesterday at least?” he asks. 

“I guess,” Keith shrugs. 

It’s sort of true but not. That horrible feeling hasn’t gone away since the Masquerade. It’s a tight pain. Like a heavy ball of lead pressing on his chest and making every breath a chore. It isn’t worse or better...Keith’s just gotten used to it being there. 

But it’ll leave eventually. Right?

“Your friends have been asking about you,” Shiro says, taking a seat on the edge of Keith’s bed. 

“I don’t have any friends,” Keith mumbles. 

“Don’t be morose,” Shiro scolds gently. “You have a lot of friends.”

“Hmph.”

“Mr. Garret sent these up,” Shiro says as he pulls out a small bag of ginger cookies. “Says he made them with a Draught of Peace potion. For your nerves. Also, Ms. Holt wants you to hurry back to Quidditch. She nearly broke her arm trying to do your job, she says. Some of your biggest fans miss seeing you on the pitch,” he adds, dropping off several small well-wishing notes on his bed.

Keith frowns and closes his eyes. 

Damn it. Why do they care about him? It’s not like he deserves their sympathy. Not with how much of a jerk he usually is. Keith tries to focus on ignoring the forming tears welling behind his eyes at the touching amount of concern they put in. 

“Ms. Lamba took some notes for you in Astronomy and History of magic,” Shiro reveals and puts them on his bedside desk. “Oliver’s offered to bring you a few meals. And this is for you too,” he adds passing over a small folded note.

He dangles it in front of Keith’s face for a few seconds, urging him to take it. Keith does so, sighs and slowly unfolds it. Familiar writing with only a few words.

**We need to talk.**

Keith crumples it up and drops it off the side of the bed. He doesn’t want to talk. He just wants to pretend nothing ever happened. That way it’ll go away. That way he can stop  _ hurting _ . 

Can’t heal a wound if he won’t let it scab. That’s not going to happen if he keeps picking at it.

“Thanks,” Keith says and rolls onto his stomach so he can hide his face. 

“He’s worried,” Shiro tells him. “You should--”

“I said  _ thanks _ ,” Keith interrupts. “Now can you just...go?”

Shiro sighs, clearly disappointed but nods and pats Keith’s head. He gets up to leave but stops at the door. 

“Tomorrow,” Shiro says switching to his teacher voice. “I need you to stay after for missed content. We’ll do a couple practice duels in the training room. You  _ will  _ be there, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Keith mumbles. 

Shiro leaves, closing the door softly behind him. 

Thank god that’s over. It’s too early for it but he’s ready to go to sleep. Within minutes he’s changed clothes, curled up in his bed and buried himself under his blanket. With a trill, Sumi hops up onto the bed and pads across to his pillow. She paws and digs at the edges trying to get his attention, yowling and huffing until he opens up. 

“What do you want?” he grumbles. “Go find Shiro. He’ll feed you.”

She meows loudly and dips her head into the cocoon he’s created. The cat pushes her way in then settles in next to him, kneading the mattress before curling up and nuzzling into his chest. Great...even Sumi feels sorry for him.

“Stupid...cat…” Keith sniffs as he tries to fight back his tears. 

He wraps an arm around her to pull her in close and she doesn’t object at all. She stays with him all night and each time he starts to cry again she purrs and licks his face with her sandpaper tongue. It should be rough and almost painful and it should annoy him to no end but he couldn’t be more grateful for her company.

Keith can make it through this, he tells himself. He’s a Kogane after all. And he...he’s a dueling prodigy. A genius. Best at Hogwarts. He can do anything. 

Even get over being in love.

*****

The following day is much like the previous one except now he has to go through  _ all  _ of his classes with Lance. Most of the time Lance is to his side and on the far side of the room. So he never has to worry about their eyes ever accidentally meeting with the exception of two classes. Astronomy and Charms.

In Astronomy, Lance sits ahead of Keith and more than once he turns slightly in his seat to look at Keith out of the corner of his eye. When Keith sees him attempt this he turns his head down into his textbook as if suddenly focused on a particular paragraph. 

In several classes he finds little slips of paper in his deck with Lance’s writing. Same messages about wanting to talk. He pointedly turns them to ash as he finds them. Sweeping the remains off his desk without batting an eye. Lance is not deterred, not even a little. He just switches tactics in his next classes. 

The entirety of Charms, Keith keeps his face straight ahead and on Flitwick’s board of notes, never looking down even as he copies sentences. Lance doesn’t look back at him but he does tap his pencil. Even though Keith tries to tune it out, the words still make their way through.

W-E  N-E-E-D  T-O  T-A-L-K

Keith tightens his jaw and ignores him but Lance won’t stop.

C-O-M-E  O-N  S-A-Y  S-O-M-E-T-H-I-N-G 

Again, nothing. Not even an acknowledging glance. Lance doesn’t know when to quit.

K-E-I-T-H

K-E-I-T-H  C-O-M-E  O-N

K-E-I-T-H

Keith finally raises his hand and waits for the professor to call on him.

“Can I go?” Keith asks. “I don’t feel well.”

“Oh, right. Still recovering from the flu, are you?” Flitwick says with a nod. “Of course, Mr. Kogane. Hope you feel better soon.”

Keith slams his book closed and stows it in his bag. He shoulders it and promptly heads for the door. Lance goes to his feet as if he’s about to follow him right out.

“Ah! Mr. McClain, I should have known you’d want to demonstrate  _ polyreducio  _ for us first!” Flitwick exclaims with glee. “Always ready to show your fellow students how it’s done. You’ll be a charms master before you know it! Five points for Slytherin if you can get it within the first three tries.”

“Uh no, I--” Lance stammers and whips his head towards the door in time to see it slam shut. Damn it, too slow. “R-Right. Can’t wait to demonstrate it, Professor.”

With a resigned huff Lance turns away from the door and pulls his wand to make his attempts. He'll just have to keep trying.

*****

Keith’s shocked when Lance starts up again in DADA. They have a test today. He’d think it wasn’t worth the risk of losing points for his house in the event that Shiro notices and thinks he’s cheating. But there he goes tapping away the same messages. Over and over. Eventually, the teacher takes notice.

“Mr. McClain,” Shiro frowns from his desk. “Please refrain from fidgeting,” he warns.

“Uh...Sorry,” Lance swallows and stills his pencil. 

He switches to tapping his foot as he writes. It’s quieter admittedly but not quiet enough. It’s beginning to annoy his neighbors and it’s not long before Shiro notices that too. The professor sighs and points his wand over at Lance, casting with a quick gesture. 

“ _ Locomotor mortis _ ,” Shiro enunciates and a purple flash dashes across the classroom. 

Lance squeaks with surprise when it hits his legs and they forcibly still then lock together at the ankle. A few snickers and giggles erupt around him but they go silent the minute Shiro walks down the aisle. He stops at Lance’s desk and lowers his voice so that only he and the nearby students can hear.

“Mr. McClain,” he says again. “I can understand nerves getting the better of you during an exam but if you can’t--”

“Sorry professor,” Lance apologizes. “I...had a cup of coffee at lunch,” he lies with a weak smile. “It’s making me jittery.”

Shiro gives him a sympathetic look as Lance turns his face down to the test again. He’s only filled out a quarter of it even though he should be nearly done. The professor sighs and releases the leg-locking curse with nothing more than a flick of his wand. 

“Stay after class if you don’t finish your test before next period. If you’re late to Potions I’ll send a note along to Honerva.”

“Uh--”

Lance peers over at Keith but he’s already standing to turn in his test. He drops the paper onto Shiro’s desk and grabs his stuff to go. For the first time the entire week he glances at Lance and their eyes meet. Keith maintains eye contact for a second but his whole body tenses before averting his gaze to stride down the aisle and leave ahead of him again. 

Damn. He was willing to just flunk this one so he could catch up with Keith but it doesn’t look like Shiro’s going to let him off that easy. They’re never going to get a chance to talk alone at this rate. And he’d never force this conversation with an audience. Keith would hate him forever if he did that...not that Lance isn’t sure he doesn’t hate him right now. 

With yet another resigned sigh Lance returns his gaze back to the exam.

“When you’re finished, I’ll even give you a few pointers on better execution for future attempts,” Shiro adds as he looks over his paper. “Your ideas are good, you just have trouble with implementation.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Lance agrees though he’s hardly heard the words. “I...guess I’m in no hurry to be anywhere.”

*****

Lance shows up late to Potions by about thirty minutes. He hands off a note to Honerva who quickly reads through it. Then with a snap of her fingers it disintegrates into nothing but ashes. She directs him to take a seat which he does without a word.

“You’re just in time, Mr. McClain,” she says with a smile and gestures to her personal brass cauldron in the center of the room. “Who wants to tell our latecomer what I brewed for you today? Yes, Ms. Holt.”

“Amortentia,” Pidge says. “It’s the most powerful love potion in existence. Advanced level.”

“We’re not going to drink that though right?” asks a Hufflepuff in the back.

“Five points from Hufflepuff for not raising your hand,” Honerva tsks but smiles nonetheless. “And the answer is...of course not. The last thing I need is three dozen first-year students falling in love with me. No, each of you is going to  _ smell  _ the potion.”

A Gryffindor raises her hand and Honerva nods.

“And what’s the point of that? Smelling it?” she asks.

“Anyone?” the beautiful Potions master asks as she scans the room. “Ah, my son. Of course, you know.” 

“Of course,” he nods.

“And, it seems like you’re the only one,” she sighs, shaking her head with disappointment at the rest of her students’ deductive reasoning skills. “I can’t give you points for it, but go on then.”

Lotor stands and gives a proud smile. 

“Amortentia smells differently to each person. If you’re aware of what a love potion smells like, specifically to you, then you’ll be able to prevent someone from dosing you with one,” he explains. “Likely part of the curriculum for all students as Valentine’s is coming up and some might get the foolish notion to...gift some to someone they admire.”

“Yes,” Honerva nods. “And I will not take kindly to having to make a hundred antidotes for Amortentia because students are poisoning each other with it. This will lighten my load a great deal if you’re able to recognize it if you come across it. Lotor, why don’t you go first?”

Lotor strides across the room and stands before the cauldron. He ladles some of the liquid and sniffs the contents with a pleased smile. 

“Hmm, it’s changed since last year,” Lotor muses.

“Ah, thank you for reminding me. Another thing class, the potion will change as you grow and broaden your horizons, so I recommend checking once a year,” Honerva insists.

“Cut grass. Sweat. Boysenberry tarts. And...leather from a well worn Quidditch glove,” Lotor says. “Someone’ll be happy to hear that,” he chuckles to himself before putting the ladle back into the pot. 

Honerva encourages them all to come up and give it a smell one at a time. It’s easier to monitor them this way. She doesn’t want them crowding the cauldron and knocking it over but mostly she doesn’t want any of them drinking it out of curiosity. Some Ravenclaws last year couldn't help themselves. 

She informs them that they needn’t announce what their potion smells like. All that’s important is they recognize it should they encounter it again.  When Pidge gives it a deep inhalation she flushes a vibrant red. 

“Heh...well that’s...enlightening,” she says clearing her throat. “Peanut butter isn’t that shocking. And that new book smell I could have guessed but…” she trails off when her eyes fall on Allura who smiles innocently at her. “A-Anyway. You’re up Hunk.”

Hunk’s smells like an herbal garden, fresh rain on a stone path, and pork that’s been slow cooking for hours. After smelling it his stomach grumbles and he laughs, the class laughing a little with him. He’s actually shocked it wasn’t more centered around his family’s home which only has one of those things. Everyone guesses the pork and he admits it’s true with another laugh.

Lance wonders what his will smell like. Or Keith’s. Glancing over there, it doesn’t look like Keith’s too keen to try it, let alone announce it to the others. 

“McClain, you’re up.”

Lance swallows and steps forward. He stares into the pot for quite a while before grabbing the ladle. The liquid inside has a beautiful sheen to it. Like mother of pearl. And though the fire beneath the cauldron has long gone out, the brew continues to swirl with steam. He pulls up the scoop and breathes in the scent.

Oh.

“Well?” Pidge calls out from her seat.

“He doesn’t have to say, Pidge,” Hunk reminds her. 

“Aww, that’s no fun,” she pouts. 

“Fresh parchment. Ink. Jasmine and sandalwood,” Lance whispers quietly to himself as he returns the ladle. “And...hot chocolate.”

There’s something telling about the variety of scents he smells and each makes Lance’s chest swell. For a second, he doesn’t feel tight and anxious. He even smiles a little at all the nostalgic memory it produces. He can’t wait to tell--

Oh...right. 

He chances a look at Keith but he’s hunched forward and buried in his arms with the hood of his robe up. If Lance focused really hard he might be able to see eyes but Honerva ushers him back to his seat before he gets the chance. It’s time for others to take their turn. 

Keith doesn’t want to go but it's for a grade. He’s already missed several assignments. Makes no sense to fail today’s participation because he doesn’t feel like getting up in front of his class to smell a potion. It’s easy. No effort required. 

His mom used to have him smell Amortentia when he visited her at the Auror office. Like Honerva said, once a year like clockwork. It’s always been the same. The sharp smell of ozone, like after a lightning strike. The last burning embers of a fire. Cherry blossoms in a spring breeze.

When Honerva calls his name a second time he finally stands up and reluctantly walks over to the cauldron. Best to just get it over with quickly. For the grade. He puts his back to the majority of the class, takes the ladle in hand and raises it for a quick smell.

Like being hit by the Hogwarts Express, the air is knocked from him. It takes everything in him not to drop the utensil. Instead, he shakingly puts it back into the pot and clutches a hand to his chest as he takes deep calming breaths.

In. Out. Slowly. In. Out. Repeat.

A pear that he can almost taste. Plantain chips fresh out of the frier. The salty spray of the ocean. But the most overpowering smell, and what’s currently wrecking his heart rate, is that potent cologne. He never thought he’d smell it again. Cuba gold. 

Damn...he thought he’d put this behind him and now that ache is back in full force.

“Mr. Kogane, are you alright?” Honerva asks, her brow raised.

“I’m fine,” he gruffly answers. “Just a little nauseous,” he lies.

Keith manages to compose himself and return to his seat without another word. Nothing but a frown on his face but there’s pain masked behind those eyes. His deskmates ask about what he smelled and Lance tries not to look too interested in the answer.

“It didn’t smell like anything,” Keith huffs, louder than he needs to. “Nothing. Pointless. Just a waste of time.”

That comment seemed directed at Lance even though he never looked his way. Is that how he sees them now? Sees what they did as pointless? That their friendship and everything that came after--it meant nothing now?

That can’t be true. It can’t be how Keith really feels. Because even Lance feels like--Lance nibbles into his bottom lip as he thinks. 

It wasn’t nothing. Lance is sure of that now. There was  _ something  _ there. And maybe that something still lingers because Keith--he wouldn’t be so bitter about it all if he felt nothing. It’s easy to move on if there are no feelings or regrets but it certainly doesn’t look like it’s been easy for Keith with the way he’s been the past week. It sure hasn’t been easy for Lance...

Maybe the connection isn’t broken yet. 

Class is nearly over and Keith makes a move to gather his stuff. So he can peace out early like all his other classes. However, Honerva steps in front of him to block his exit.

“Not today, Mr. Kogane,” she says, stern look on her face. “I’m told you were ill the past week so I cut you a little slack your first day back. But from now on you will stay until I dismiss you.”

Keith’s jaw clenches but he begrudgingly returns to his seat.

“Besides, you need to stay after a moment anyway,” she says. “I have a few extra assignments for you to take with you. For you to catch up on.”

If Keith clenches his jaw any tighter he’ll give himself a headache but he nods with a terse ‘yes ma’am’ and puts his bag back down. When the potions master finally dismisses them all Keith expects Lance to just sit in his seat and wait. That way Keith can’t avoid him. But the Slytherin immediately stands and leaves with a determined look on his face, not even sparing Keith a glance. 

He’s...ignoring Keith now. 

Good. Finally, Keith tells himself despite this sinking feeling in his stomach. It’s better this way, he contends. It’ll make it easier to move on if Lance hates him. That’s what made getting over others easy. If they don’t care then Keith won’t either.

With his bag stuffed full of extra potions assignments Keith exits the classroom a few minutes later. Lance isn’t there. Something bittersweet about that. He considers running back to the tower but remembers Shiro. 

Right. They were going to do some dueling. Fireballs always make Keith feel a little better so he heads down the halls. They’re filled with students walking to a fro, some whispering about him as he passes, but no sign of Lance. It’s starting to look like he finally gave up. 

Shiro’s in the classroom making his way through their exams from earlier. Looks like he’s still got about ten to go. He lifts his head from the papers to rub the bridge of his nose with a weary sigh. His eyes fall on Keith standing in the doorway and he puts down his glasses.

“Sorry Keith, I’m running a little behind,” he apologizes. “Why don’t you warm up on your own? I’ll be in in--” Shiro puffs his cheeks as he estimates. “--twenty minutes.”

“Sure,” Keith nods with a forced smile. 

Within seconds of the training room door closing behind him, something feels off. Someone else’s bag is in here. Open and off to the side against the wall. Shiro must be tutoring someone else too. Keith drops his own bag next to it  and leans to peek curiously at it. 

Messy and disorganized. Almost looks like--

“Damn it, Shiro,” Keith mutters and snatches his bag back up to leave.

But it’s too late. Lance stands directly in his path towards the door. He stands firm, his arms at his sides and eyes straight ahead. He doesn’t even flinch when Keith attempts a glare to get him to move.

“Get out of my way,” Keith grumbles. The first words he’s said to Lance in a week.

“Not until we talk,” Lance answers back.

“About what?” Keith asks, avoiding his eyes and looking to the wall.

“About...my feelings,” Lance says and Keith snorts.

“Your face that night made it pretty clear how you  _ feel  _ about me,” Keith huffs and starts walking around him. Lance doesn’t try to stop him but turns to follow. 

“That’s not--”

“Whatever,” Keith interrupts. “It doesn’t matter. I’m over it.”

“Are you though?” Lance asks and Keith stops right at the door. “You missed class for five days. You look like you haven’t stopped crying since--”

“Shut up!” Keith shouts and puts his hand on the door handle. “I said, I’m done with this!”

“But I’m not!” Lance yells back. “Keith, I...I was looking over our book,” he starts and takes it out from his robe pocket. He’s shocked Lance didn’t throw it away. “And...and I decided that...I really like the person who was writing to me.”

Keith says nothing but his hand grips tighter on the doorknob. He hasn’t run out of the room yet so Lance keeps going. 

“I remember all these conversations and...I can’t stop smiling when I read them,” he admits, his cheeks flushing a little. “And I can’t...my chest feels like it’s--it’s going to cave in if I don’t get to talk to this person again! He’s...the closest friend I’ve ever had.”

Keith’s grip on the door wanes a little and his head dips.

“I admit, I felt a little lied to so it took me a while to...process it. And I’m...sorry for how everything went down at the party,” Lance says and steps forward a little. “I get now why you were afraid. I didn’t exactly handle it well.”

It’s quiet. The pause seems to stretch for hours. Just the two of them breathing. Then Keith swallows and grips tight on the door again.

“I wish...you’d never talked to me that day on the train,” Keith says bitterly but his voice wavers and cracks. “I was...I w-was...perfectly f-fine on my own until you came along.”

He used to be strong. He used to be able to do anything. No challenge would go untested by Keith Kogane. No one could beat him. And he was never afraid of anything.

“And now...I-I…” Keith swallows. 

And here he is...falling apart because of stupid, stupid love.

“Keith.”

Water plips to the ground as tears streak down his face. His shoulders begin to shake. He sniffs and hiccups and wipes his face with his sleeve. A warm hand perches on his shoulder and before he can lean into it he smacks it away.

“Don’t touch m-me,” Keith hiccups. “I-I’m Keith Kogane a-and I don’t need  _ anyone _ ! And especially not you!” he shouts at Lance.

He expects to see anger in Lance’s eyes. Or frustration. There’s nothing there but sympathy and soft kind eyes. 

“You sure about that?” Lance asks.

Lance pointedly drops the duolibri to the ground and pulls Keith into a tight hug.

“ _ No! _ I don’t want y-your pity!” Keith shouts and struggles in vain.  “I can’t stand your s-stupid blue eyes! And your dumb...dumb s-smile! I h-hate...”

He tries to beat his fist on Lance but the impacts are weak. He hasn’t the strength for it. Instead, he crumples into his chest with a sob. And the tears and bawling won’t stop. After listing a few more things he hates through his sobs, like his soft hands and his perfect hair and the way he smells, he devolves into nothing but whimpering cries. 

Over time, Lance loosens his vice-like grip on him. To run fingers gently through Keith’s hair and rub circles into his back. Keith’s fists have since stopped smacking pathetically onto his chest and are now gripped tight on his uniform vest. 

Then Keith’s legs start giving out on him. Completely tuckered out. Lance lowers them both so he doesn’t hurt himself. He then wraps his arms around Keith again with a sigh. There’s no struggling this time and Keith just falls into him.

Keith’s dreamed about being held in Lance’s arms but not like this. A red-faced mess of tears and looking like he hasn’t slept in days. And damn it! Is that snot he just wiped on his sleeve? Fucking gross. And yet...Lance hasn’t relinquished his hold on him.

Shiro peeks in and Lance shakes his head at him, ushering him to leave with a tilt of his head. With an understanding nod and small smile, the professor closes the door again. When the shaking stops, Lance squeezes Keith tight and presses his nose to the top of his head with a sigh. 

He’s always wanted to hold Lion--Keith, he corrects himself--and now he is. Maybe this time he’ll listen to what Lance has to say.

“I...want to be more than friends with the person from that book,” Lance says and pets Keith’s hair. 

“Why?” Keith sniffs.

“He’s...amazing,” he sighs. “Smart. Snarky. An artist. Always brings a smile to my face. And thinking about him just...makes me feel like flying.”

Keith clears his throat before saying, “He’s not real.  _ A fake _ .”

“What he makes me feel isn’t fake,” Lance disagrees. “I want...to give things a try with him. A  _ real  _ try. Think he’ll be interested if I ask him?” he asks, a bit of playfulness in his tone. 

This game of pretending they’re talking about someone else almost makes Keith want to laugh. In fact, he does snort a little before wiping his face again and pulling out of Lance’s hold to sit up. He must look an awful sight but Lance gives him an encouraging smile.

Lance pulls a kerchief from his pocket and rubs the wetness from his cheeks, all the while staring into his eyes. Stormy grey. Still so surreal thinking all this time Keith’s been pining over him but too afraid to say it. He didn’t think Keith was afraid of anything, not even love; no wonder he never suspected him. 

“Maybe,” Keith finally answers with a weak smile.

“Great,” Lance sighs and sits back propped on his arms as he looks at the ceiling with a dreamy look on his face. “He’s such a good dancer. Good kisser too.”

Keith frowns and looks away a little embarrassed. “That so?” he says. 

“Yeah. Though, don’t tell anyone but...” 

Lance leans forward and gestures him closer to whisper. Serious look on his face like it’s some big secret he can’t risk spreading. Keith humors him and tilts his head before leaning in to listen.

“...he could probably use more practice on that second one,” Lance grins suggestively. “And I’ve heard I’m a great tutor,” he hints brushing his lips on his lobe.

Keith swallows and finds his throat bone dry. His breath shallows as Lance places his hands on his shoulders. Warm hands that gently squeeze and pull him closer. His heart rate pulses like heavy drums and it’s a wonder Lance doesn’t comment on how loud it is. God, it's going to burst right out of his chest.

“I was thinking about...kissing you--without the masks,” Lance whispers against his pulse making it skyrocket. “What do you say, Keith? Be my boyfriend?”

Keith doesn’t know why but he almost expected Lance to call him Lion. But to hear his own name like this, full of yearning and affection--it sends a wave of heat through him. Warmth from his core all the way to his extremities, so strong that he almost gasps. 

Lance doesn’t want Lion. He wants Keith. The real Keith.

His boyfriend. Lance’s boyfriend. Why does the room feel ten degrees hotter all of a sudden? 

“Too fast?” Lance asks when Keith doesn’t move or answer. 

“I’ve never...been one before,” he admits and averts his gaze with a frown. 

“Wait...what? You’ve never been--” Lance asks, his face genuinely confused. “No that’s--You...you said you’d kissed a guy before in school!”

“I didn’t date him!” Keith huffs, his face turning redder. “We were fourteen! We barely knew each other...”

“But you--in the book--we--” Lance makes a crude gesture “--together,” Lance explains and Keith’s face becomes an inferno at the memory.

“We weren’t face to face! It was easier then!” he exclaims.  

“Oh man! You’re a vir--” Lance bellows with laughter and Keith frowns at him, not exactly pleased at the teasing. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he apologizes and lets out a deep breath, puffing his cheeks. “Well then, this is going to be an experience full of firsts for you. Guess we should start somewhere simpler.”

Lance stands and offers his hand to help Keith up. He takes it but instead of letting go Lance just holds on. Keith looks down at their hands and blinks waiting for something to happen.  Lance snorts out a chuckle at his confusion and then Keith realizes with a start.

Oh. They’re holding hands. That does seem pretty simple as far as gestures go. Yeah, he can work with this. With a smile, he gives Lance’s hand a squeeze which he gently squeezes back.

“Not so bad right?” Lance smiles and adjusts the hold so that their fingers thread together. It’s a little more intimate and Keith nods with a slight flush. “How about we start over?”

“Start over?”

“Yeah,” Lance nods. “Hey, my name’s Lance McClain and I’m looking to make new friends here at Hogwarts. What’s your name?”

Keith rolls his eyes at how stupid this is but answers with a smirk.

“Keith. Kogane.”

“No way!  _ The  _ Keith Kogane!” Lance feigns wide-eyed surprise and Keith can’t not snort at how much he’s hamming this up. With a grin, Lance pulls him over to his bag so he can pick it up. “I’ve heard all about you! You’re famous! But man you’re way hotter than any of the stories say!”

“Thanks, I think,” Keith quietly says and squeezes Lance’s hand. 

Yeah...he likes this better. Starting over is all he ever wanted to do anyway. To undo the animosity. Their fight. And this way, they can work their way up to where they were before. No hiding. No masks. Only the truth. 

“You like Quidditch? I’m a great Chaser, if I do say so myself. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be since I could ride a broom,” Lance continues as they make their way to the door. “What about you? Any hobbies?”

“Quidditch. Seeker. And...” Keith says, barely managing a smile. “I’m learning how to dance. Bachata.”

“Really? I  _ love  _ bachata! I’ll have to invite you to one of the RoR parties,” Lance says giving him a wink. “I’ve been looking for a good dance partner. You ever lead?”

“Only when I dance,” Keith smirks and Lance beams. 

“We should go on a date sometime. You seem like my type,” Lance elbows with another wink. 

They stop at the door and Lance rests his free hand on the knob but pauses before opening it. Something’s on his mind. Keith can tell from the way his eyes dart around. Happens when he’s thinking about plays and outcomes on the field. Keith’s learned not to interrupt him when he’s like that so they can get the best change in strategy. 

Lance wears that contemplative look for a bit before glancing over at Keith with a smile.

“For the record, I don’t care what anyone thinks when it comes to who I date. I never have,” Lance starts and his cheeks flush a little. “I uh...I’m not exactly apologetic or subtle when it comes to affection. In fact...I’ve always been pretty shameless about it.”

“I hadn’t noticed with Inez at all,” Keith says sarcastically and Lance snorts. 

“My point is, that’ll apply to you too,” Lance hints while nibbling his lip. “I’ll brag about you. To anyone who’ll listen. Friends, family, complete strangers--”

Really? Brag about Keith? That...sounds great actually. 

“And then there’s--I’ll probably kiss your cheek or hold your hand without much thought or warning. Lean on you a lot. P-Play with your hair,” Lance explains further, rambling a little now. He clears his throat and continues. “And if you’d rather I toned it down--tried to be a little more discrete then I can--”

Oh. Lance is worried that all the attention will bother Keith. Especially considering how he reacted at the dance. Thinks it’ll send him into a panic if he draws the eyes of too many people.

That’s a fair worry to have, though nothing he’s mentioned so far sounds bad. Keith can’t even muster a modicum of fear at being seen doing any of those things when before he would have fainted dead away at the thought. Perhaps that’s because it’s all out in the open now. Takes the stress out of it. 

Short of making out and dry humping in the courtyard, Keith can’t see himself having a problem with hugs, kisses, and heaps of praise. But Lance wants to make sure. It’s very considerate and...endearing. More of those qualities he fell for.

Keith gives his hand a squeeze and Lance stops talking. He looks over to find Keith half smiling but still not quite making eye contact. Something he’ll have to work on.

“Sounds good,” he says, looking away. “All that stuff...it sounds good.”

“Yeah? Good,” Lance sighs with a relieved smile. “I’ll try to keep it tame at first though. One day at a time.”

They exit the training room hand in hand to find Shiro sitting at his desk. Still grading papers but shooting them a knowing look. He says not to worry about the makeup work today. They’ll take care of it during the weekend.

There are other witnesses too. Sumi trills and approaches, rubbing her face on their legs and meowing. In the rafters up above Ciela sits whistling a song. Was she up there the whole time? Once she spots them she dives down to land on Lance’s shoulder.

“Happy! Happy!” she squawks. The parrot bobs her head and crosses over so she can see Keith. 

“Yes, happy happy. Now Ciela, the new one. Say it to, Keith,” Lance tells her. “Come on, you remember.”

She whistles and shifts her feet back and forth as she thinks. Takes her a minute and it’s starting to look like she won’t say it. Ciela makes little humming noises and giggles in Veronica’s voice. With a flap she lets out a squawk.

“Friend Keith!” she says and repeats his name several times. 

Lance gives him a look that says he has to respond.

“Uh...what is it?” Keith answers with a shrug.

“Mind if I...Slytherin?” Ciela coos and switches shoulders to snuggle in his hair. 

Keith covers his face, embarrassed on their behalf as they’re certainly feeling no shame of their own. She and Lance cackle with glee in response. Lance smacks his thigh and Ciela flaps as she squawks. Even Shiro is stifling a chuckle behind his prosthetic hand. 

“You’re both horrible,” Keith says.

“I think you mean,  _ riddikulus _ !” Lance snickers then bursts with another laugh at his additional spell pun. Ciela giggles while nudging Keith’s cheek. 

“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t know if I want to be seen with you,” Keith shakes his head and Lance laughs even more.

"So much easier to tell when you're sarcastic in person," Lance says and squeezes his hand.

“Get out of my classroom you two,” Shiro interrupts, trying not to laugh himself. “I’m never going to finish these tests if you stay.”

Lance just grins and tugs Keith along out to the hall. It’s mostly empty with the exception of a few people lingering here and there in the alcoves. Some are looking at textbooks, others are conversing or practicing their wandwork. Lance releases Keith’s hand and hooks his arm around his neck and few people take notice, whispering to each other behind their hands.

By this time tomorrow, all new rumors are going to start.

“So...want to go hang out in the courtyard before dinner?” Lance asks as they start walking. “We can finally have a conversation in person and in public--that is, if you’re not going to throw up on my shoes?”

Keith frowns with cherry cheeks at the reminder and gives him a shove. Lance just chuckles as he nearly hits a column but swerves around it at the last minute to avoid it. He returns to Keith’s side, stepping in time with him.

“What, you can’t handle that?” Lance asks with a teasing wink. 

Handle it? Of course, he can. What, does he have to prove it? Keith boldly takes Lance’s hand and threads their fingers together making Lance’s cheeks tinge pink with pleased surprise.

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage,” Keith huffs, his cheeks just as flushed if not more so. 

They walk together down the halls of Hogwarts hand in hand. Lance talks and talks about all the things he missed that week. Everything from classes to Quidditch and anything else he can think of that Keith didn’t even ask about. Even the things they’ve already talked about in their books isn’t off limits as they converse. Keith manages a few sentences himself with a small smile.

Everything feels new now that they’re face to face and they can’t wait to share it all again as they start over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the official end of PART 1. Woo hoo! <3
> 
> Before you ask: Yes, there will be a PART 2 and it will focus on the progression of their relationship. Which means it will get a lot more smutty than this bit. It will also answer questions that you were left with about people/events in previous chapters. And more drama in the form of family relationships.
> 
> That said, I am currently working on NaNoWriMo so it will not be outlined, written, or posted for some time. If you want to know more about it or ask me questions about it, I'm more than happy to answer them on my tumblr page --> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rangoatemybabynsfw . You can also find information on my current projects there too. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed PART 1 guys. *smooches*
> 
> Also, this happens enough that I'll answer it here. If you draw fanart of this fic TELL ME. I will link it right into the chapter of whatever you drew inspiration from. I love supporting artists and will do it to my dying breath. 
> 
> Ta, mates. Thanks for reading. You're all gems.


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